


time can do so much

by foxwatson



Category: Bill & Ted (Movies)
Genre: Amnesia, M/M, THAT'S RIGHT BABY IT'S AMNESIA FIC TIME, Temporary Amnesia, bill and ted are really good dads, but not just any amnesia fic, i won't explain that just read the fic, morons to lovers, old dudes, to morons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 35,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27986241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxwatson/pseuds/foxwatson
Summary: When Ted falls off a ladder working on the house in 2015 and hits his head, he wakes up with a most egregious side effect - he doesn't remember anything after the 1991 Battle of the Bands. And there's a lot it seems like he's missing. He and Bill have daughters, and a big shared house - but Liz and Jo are nowhere to be seen. So why is Ted wearing a wedding ring? And why does Bill act so weird when Ted brings them up? Bogus.
Relationships: Ted "Theodore" Logan/Bill S. Preston Esq.
Comments: 53
Kudos: 156





	time can do so much

**Author's Note:**

> OH GOD THIS FIC IS. A REAL LABOR OF LOVE. this has taken me over a month from when i first got handed the idea by the wonderful lovely and talented tanya, mmmm1na here on ao3. from there i received ENDLESS SUPPORT from tanya, from my friend paige (nuvvanda here) from shel (ohwhoadude) and bee (babereport) and really just EVERYONE over at the magnificent jesters u discord. THIS FIC WOULDN'T EXIST WITHOUT YOU ALL. DINKY SMOOCHES. i hope you enjoy it.
> 
> title credit to unchained melody but it's very important everyone knows i was listening to the orville peck and paul cauthen cover for most of this, OKAY.

The hospital is way too bright when Ted opens his eyes. He squints, and blinks a few times, and tries to orient himself in spite of the aching in his head. The room is all white and washed out beige, and there’s a big window letting in sunlight. There’s a bunch of machines and standard hospital stuff - and there’s someone sitting by his bed, holding his hand. 

Thankfully, the hand in his is familiar, because it’s Bill. Ted recognizes the callouses, the small square shape of it, and that’s a relief if nothing else.

There’s something a little different, though, about his grip, and when Ted really blinks all the fuzziness away, the shape by his bed becomes Bill’s head resting by his hip, face smushed against the bed - and there’s grey at his temples. There’s little lines around his eyes, too, and there’s a mole right by his temple that Ted doesn’t remember ever having been there before.

The trouble is, the last thing Ted remembers is getting thrown against a wall at the Battle of the Bands in 1991 - and judging from basically everything around him, it is most certainly not 1991. He’s still got Bill here, though, which is keeping him from totally freaking out.

“Bill,” he whispers urgently, shaking Bill’s hand on the bed. “Bill, dude, hey wake up.”

Bill shifts, and almost falls off the bed, then pops up, blinking sleep from his eyes. He looks over at Ted, though, and smiles fondly when he finds him awake, squeezing his hand again. “Hey, dude, you’re awake!” His eyelids are low over his eyes, and the resulting warm, sleepy look is enough to make Ted’s heart speed up.

“Yeah uh - what happened, dude?”

“Ted,” Bill starts, frowning a little with concern. “You fell off that ladder trying to fix the window over the garage, you bonehead.”

Ted snorts a little. “Well. That does sound like something I would do.” He looks down at their hands again, though, and Bill’s wedding ring - and the signs of age he can see on both of their skin remind him why he’s supposed to be freaking out. “Except uh - Bill, there’s a lot I don’t remember, dude.”

“What do you mean, Ted?”

“The last thing I remember is - the Battle of the Bands. When the robots got us again? And no offense, dude, because you’re wearing it well but you look - most different.”

“You don’t remember - anything?”

“No way, dude,” Ted tells him, getting a little nervous. He squeezes Bill’s hand again. “Is it - I mean I guess I just hit my head or something, right? But I guess maybe we should - talk to the doctor about it.”

“Yeah, that’s - yeah.” Bill stares at Ted for a moment longer, brow furrowed, before he pushes back and looks around the room, hunting for the call button.

There’s some chaos that follows, and Ted struggles to grasp a lot of what the doctor says. Fortunately, Bill seems a little more attentive. From what Ted _can_ process, it boils down to the fact that the large gap is coming from the bizarre nature of their head injuries in 1991. Bill and Ted can’t really tell the doctor that they literally died in 1991, but apparently it wasn’t without its aftereffects on their bodies, or at least their brains - so now, since Ted hit his head again, somehow the traumatic nature of his injury has caused his brain to just block off basically half of his life.

And that’s the other thing - he and Bill are like, almost 50. It’s 2015. Ted has no idea what he looks like, but the idea of checking is freaking him out most heinously.

Even as his breathing picks up, he just seeks out Bill’s hand again and grabs it in his, squeezing it whenever he starts to get too nervous, and Bill squeezes back, there just like always.

At least if he’s gotta be almost 50, Bill’s still here, right by his side.

The doctor leaves again, and Ted takes a deep breath, laying back in his bed and staring up at the ceiling. “Bill. I’m kind of freaking out, dude.”

“Ted, dude, it’s okay.” Bill holds his hand a little tighter and sits down on the edge of the bed. “She said you might get your memories back, right? We just gotta do things like we normally would and make sure you heal okay, and you’ll probably be fine. I know it’s gonna be weird to get used to, but I promise the future’s not that bad, okay?” Bill smiles at him a little, and even though it looks a little forced, Ted looks at him and takes a strange comfort in even the differences in Bill’s face. Under the new stuff, he still sort of just looks the same. The same shape of his nose, the same small mouth, the same hooded green eyes, and the same little wrinkle in his brow when he gets serious.

“Okay. But - I don’t really wanna look at myself yet, dude.” Ted admits, still a little freaked out by just how different he feels, and how different his own hands look.

“That’s fine. There’s not a mirror except in the bathroom, anyways. Plus now you’re awake, maybe they’ll let the girls back. Not - I don’t wanna overwhelm you or anything, but they’ll wanna see you’re okay.”

Ted blinks, and smiles, happily distracted from his freakout. “Liz and Jo are here?”

“Huh?” Bill asks, frowning again.

“Well cause - the wedding ring, dude. We’re married to them, right? They married us after the Battle of the Bands.” Bill just blinks at him, and Ted frowns a little. “Unless they didn’t?”

Something falls over Bill’s face, and he opens his mouth for just a moment, then closes it again. He frowns a little, down at their hands, looking down at his own wedding ring, and then carefully, he slips his hand from Ted’s. “Uh. Yeah. Of course but - I didn’t mean them, dude, but I just kind of forgot - we have kids, dude. Daughters?”

“Oh,” Ted says, unable to process Bill’s strange reaction to his question in the face of the news about - _kids_. “How - how old are they?”

“20, dude. They didn’t wanna go to college or anything, so they’re still at home for now, though.” Bill pauses, and a smile starts to pull at the corner of his mouth. “They have the most excellent taste in music. And Billie’s so smart, Ted - really they both are, but Billie thinks like, science is fun, dude.” Bill says, cutting himself off to laugh a little. He’s lighting up now, gushing about their daughters and - Ted, suddenly, in spite of his own nerves, is desperate to meet them.

“Well I guess we oughta let them back there, then, right? I wanna - I wanna see them. I mean, you should tell them I don’t know what’s going on, but I wanna meet ‘em.” Ted adjusts, trying to sit up against the pillows. “You can’t just tell me how cool they are like that, dude, and not let them back.”

Bill laughs again, and smiles at Ted, brightening up. “Okay. I’ll text them.”

“Huh?” Ted asks.

He watches, though, as Bill pulls out a little - rectangle thing, and starts tapping at it with his thumbs.

“Whoa. Is that like - future stuff?”

Looking up from whatever it is, Bill looks confused, then looks down at the thing in his hands again and laughs a little. “Oh, dude. You have no idea. This is what a phone looks like now. And they have this whole thing it’s like - pagers only way cooler. I’ll show you later.”

“Okay, Bill,” Ted agrees with a nod - though he winces a little when it causes him some pain.

Though his expression gets serious again as he taps on the phone for a little bit, soon Bill is looking back up at Ted and smiling a little. “I’m just really glad you’re okay, dude. I mean-” His smile falls. “The memory stuff is pretty heinous. But we can figure that out. When you fell, dude - you fell hard. I think it like, knocked your breath out for a minute but I thought something might have been broken, and you couldn’t tell me, I just-”

“Hey, Bill, dude, I’m fine.” Ted wants, desperately, to take Bill’s hand again, but it’s not on the bed anymore. Ever since that thing Ted said about Liz and Jo, Bill’s started keeping some space between them. It’s making Ted feel like something is up, but he can’t tell what it is. If Liz and Jo aren’t here, maybe they left, and he and Bill just still wear their wedding rings. The idea is a little sad - but if their daughters still talk to them, still live with them at least sometimes, and want to see Ted in the hospital, things must not be too bad.

“No, I know. I’m glad, dude. I just-” Bill gets hung up, though, and he doesn’t finish before two girls come rushing into the room, just short of running.

The first one is tall, her dark hair falling over her eyes, and the grin that lights up her face as she catches sight of Ted is so oddly familiar that Ted immediately recognizes her. That’s his daughter - it has to be. The girl following her is shorter, her blonde, wavy hair piled in a knot up on top of her head, and she’s grinning too, nudging Billie’s shoulder out of the way as they stumble through the door together.

“Dader!” The two of them say in chorus, and they stop right at the foot of the bed.

It’s a little strange that both of them are calling him dad - but it makes sense. It’s a nice idea, that they’re all sort of one big family. It sends a little thrill through Ted, this glimpse of what he gets to have. He has kids who love him, and Bill by his side. It’s everything he would have wanted back in 1991, and he’s got it. It’s sort of sad that he doesn’t remember how he got here - but he’s excited to find out, and hopeful that Bill’s right and he’ll remember sooner rather than later.

Both of the girls have excellent fashion sense, too, Ted notices, which Bill didn’t even mention. Billie’s clothes look mostly handmade, and Bill’s daughter has on an oversized shirt that looks like one Bill used to have in high school - in fact, it’s probably the same shirt. 

Ted grins at them. “Hey, girls.”

Both of them step forward, and then they look over at Bill.

“Hey daderino, what’d the doc say about hugs?” Bill’s daughter asks.

“You’re gonna have to ask your dad, Thea. I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna hurt, but he may feel kind of weird about it.”

Though they’d always said they were gonna name their kids after each other - knowing Bill followed through, too, makes Ted grin and flush. He looks up at the girls and holds out his arms. “No way, get in here.”

Billie goes to one side of the bed, and Thea on the other, and they both pile in close, leaning on the bed to throw their arms over his middle.

Ted wraps his arms around both of them, laughing, absolutely delighted. He loves them both so much already - these girls that are so clearly his and Bill’s daughters, just similar enough to them at that age that it’s almost uncanny, but with their own strong personalities that are already starting to stand out when Ted’s only known them for a few minutes.

“I’m glad you’re okay, dader,” Billie says softly, hiding her face against his chest. 

He places one hand on her head, and strokes over her hair, like instinct. “I’m gonna be fine. The worst thing is just the memory stuff, and like Bill says, I’ll probably be fine soon. In the meantime, I am most confused, so I might need help with some stuff, but I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Thea lifts her head to look at him and frowns. “And you are totally never getting on a ladder like that again without somebody to spot you. Bogus, Dader.”

Ted laughs, and this time it’s hard enough that he can still feel the ache in his back, and he winces a little. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’m not gonna fight you on that one, T.”

She grins at him. “Hey, did you remember that?”

He blinks, and frowns. “No, it just - sounded right. Sorry.”

Billie lifts her head up, too, and she leans in and kisses him on the forehead. “Don’t worry about it, okay? We’re gonna do some research and stuff, and Dad’s gonna help, too, I’m sure, and we’re gonna figure it out.” She turns and pokes Thea in the shoulder. “Right, T?”

Thea nods, and hops back up. “Right, B. We’re gonna head to the library, actually, and see if we can do some more reading to find stuff to help. Now that we know you’re okay, we know Dad’ll take good care of you.”

“Most definitely,” Billie says. She presses another quick kiss to Ted’s forehead, and he smiles at her as she springs back up. She waves at him, from just a short distance away, then spins around and points at Bill. “Keys,” she says, and fishes car keys out of her pocket to drop in his hand.

“Thanks, Billie.”

“No problem, Daderino.” She leans down and kisses him on the cheek, then she and Thea go back over to the door, and pause right before they exit.

“Catch ya later, dads!” They say in chorus, then they’re gone again, bouncing back out the door, arms linked.

When Ted looks back at Bill, he’s looking at Ted with a little smile on his face, his eyes all bright.

“You know, for not remembering, you’re really good with them still, dude.”

Ted grins, giddy with the compliment and with all the fondness he’s still feeling for the girls. “They’re our daughters. Thea’s so much like you - and Billie acts just like I did, almost, it’s - weird but it’s nice. I just saw them and I like… Felt it, you know? I don’t think I have to remember to feel it.”

When Bill smiles back again, there’s something off about it - but he stands up, and dusts himself off. “I’m gonna go chase down a doctor and see if I can find out when you can leave, dude. Be right back.”

Bill ducks out the door before Ted can even say anything else, and Ted is left by himself for a moment for the first time since he woke up.

He lifts his hands, and looks at them. He does, in fact, have a wedding ring on his left hand. It’s a pleasant weight, and it fits nicely, loose enough that he can twist it around and fidget with it. It’s a dark kind of gunmetal color - and come to think of it, it looks almost exactly like Bill’s.

For one brief, fluttering moment, Ted wonders if he and Bill are married to each other.

But of course - that’s silly. Two dudes can’t get married. And it wouldn’t explain where Billie and Thea came from - and there’s no way Bill would agree to that, anyways. Ted swallows, and flushes, glad he had the thought while Bill was still out of the room.

He scratches at his face - for the first time really feeling it out. He’d noticed something felt different - but now he realizes he has a beard. His hair is longer, too, down around his shoulders the way he never had it when he was younger. He smiles a little, and shakes his head, just slightly, although he regrets it almost immediately.

Laughing to himself, Ted tests out his own limbs, and uses his hands to push up, sitting up on the bed. For a moment, he’s a little dizzy, but as long as he doesn’t move too fast, he feels okay. He wiggles his toes a little, at the other end of the bed, and everything still feels intact. He sighs, relieved, and swings his legs off the side of the bed.

He stands up okay. He’s still hooked up to some stuff, though, and he carefully untangles the cords and removes the little pulse monitor on his finger so he can stumble into the bathroom.

When he turns the light on and gets through the door, there, in the mirror, is his face. It’s weird, seeing himself 20-something years older, but it’s not as scary as he thought it would be. There’s a little gray in his hair, and some in his beard, too, peppered throughout. The effect is surprisingly rock and roll.

He tucks his hair behind his ears, and smiles at himself, and he feels surprisingly comfortable in his own body. It’s nice. He notices, though, in passing, that he’s got one of his ears pierced now. He wonders if he ever actually still wears an earring, if maybe they took it off when he got to the hospital.

Either way - he feels _cool_. The hospital gown is kind of throwing everything off a little, but he still kind of looks like an actual rockstar, if an old one, and he’s excited to get home and see what his closet looks like, too - see more of this excellent future he’s landed himself in.

He freshens up a little in the bathroom, and makes his way slowly back out only to find Bill right outside his door, spinning around to meet him.

“Dude, you scared me,” Bill tells him, eyes wide, mouth tight.

“Sorry I just - needed the bathroom, dude. Plus I thought maybe I should actually, you know, see myself. Try to get used to it.” Ted walks forward, but winces a little when he moves wrong, and then Bill’s got an arm around him, supporting him on the way back to bed.

“You should have waited for me, dude, I’m not - I thought maybe you freaked out and left, or like - I don’t know.” Bill’s voice is quiet as his steady grip on Ted’s forearm tightens a little. “Just don’t run off on me, okay, Ted?”

“I would never, dude,” Ted tells him, pressing one hand over Bill’s. “I’m sorry I made you worry. I didn’t mean to.” Another glance at Bill’s furrowed brow reminds Ted most harshly that in fact, this entire awful situation is his own fault. “I mean - I’m sorry for everything. Sorry I fell off that ladder and now you’ve gotta deal with all this.” Ted winces, and ducks behind his hair. “I know this is probably most inconvenient and stressful. I should have been more careful.”

Bill’s grip on his arm softens, and once they’ve gotten Ted seated on the bed again, Bill’s hand lingers for a moment, his thumb shifting over Ted’s skin. “Don’t think about it like that, dude. I don’t care about any of that, I don’t mind taking care of you. I just wish you weren’t - hurt and confused and stuff.”

“Thanks, Bill,” Ted says softly, and he leans forward to wrap his arms around Bill, pulling him into a hug. He knows back in 1991, they wouldn’t normally do this, at least not lingering, the way Ted is now, but Bill seems different. He held Ted’s hand earlier and didn’t make any jokes, and Ted didn’t feel like he had to, either. Maybe it’s okay now for them to touch each other, because they got married and they had kids, and maybe things are a little different, here in the future.

Ted’s face is pressed to Bill’s stomach - and at first he’s hiding there, nervous about Bill’s reaction. Then Bill wraps one arm around Ted’s shoulders, and uses the other one to pet over his hair, and Ted relaxes, leaning his weight on Bill.

“We’re gonna fix it, dude,” Bill says softly. “I promise.”

“I know, Bill,” Ted tells him, too content to move. “I trust you.”

For some reason, Bill tenses up again, and he gently pushes Ted’s head back as he pulls away from the embrace and goes to sit down again. “Yeah, thanks,” he mumbles, but it’s a little dismissive. It rings totally hollow when Ted’s just sitting there on the bed, feeling awkward and a little embarrassed, not sure of what he did wrong.

“Did the doctors say when I can go home?” Ted asks, fidgeting with his gown.

“Oh, yeah. They’re gonna come in here and discharge you pretty soon, I think, since I’ll be at home to watch you overnight. We have to be careful with your concussion, and your back and stuff, but nothing’s broken or really messed up. I just have to keep an eye on you when you’re sleeping, wake you up and stuff.”

Ted nods, but slowly this time, careful of his head. “Sounds good. But - can I ask you something?”

Bill scoots forward on his seat a little, frowning. “What is it, Ted?”

“Well earlier - you said Billie and Thea live at home. And the way they talked about it, it’s all four of us in one big place. Did we always live in a shared place like that? Like with Liz and Jo? I mean - from the way you reacted earlier, I’m guessing they left. You don’t have to tell me when or anything, I just - I’m trying to figure it all out, dude.”

Bill’s face falls again, and Ted knows he’s hit on a sensitive subject - that this is totally the thing that’s been bothering Bill, and Ted keeps reminding him.

“I’m sorry, dude, just - forget I asked,” Ted tells him quickly, wanting to get that look off Bill’s face again as fast as possible.

“No it’s - it’s okay, dude, I know you’re just asking cause you’re confused. But it’s not - it’s just complicated, okay? And I don’t - I don’t wanna make you more confused. I think maybe we should just wait til you remember, okay? There’s no reason to-” Bill stumbles over his words and looks down at his hands. “To bum you out for no reason,” he mumbles.

“Okay, Bill.”

Ted can’t think of anything else to say before the doctor comes back in to talk them through his discharge. 

A lot of it kind of goes in one ear and out the other for Ted, but Bill seems to be paying rapt attention. Ted, honestly, just can’t stop looking at Bill. There’s something kind of wonderful about getting to marvel at all the little changes in Bill’s face, in his hair, his hands. Ted wants to just sit down and look at him without interruption, really check and see what all is different, ask questions if there are new scars or calluses or anything else - but he knows that’s weird. It has to be, even now, in this surprisingly cool future.

Once the doctor’s gone again, Bill shuffles him into the bathroom and leaves him in there alone to get changed.

In the little bag Bill brought with his clothes, he finds a pair of well-worn jeans, a threadbare Van Halen shirt he’s never seen before, and the answer to one of his questions - a small, gold hoop earring. It takes him a couple of tries with slightly unsteady hands to get the earring in and fastened, but he kind of likes the way it looks, peeking through his hair to catch the light when he turns his head.

He takes another look at himself in the mirror once he’s fully dressed, and tugs at his shirt. It feels right - comfortable and strangely familiar. The sight of himself in the mirror is still a little startling when he’s not bracing himself, but he knows he can get used to it.

This time, when he walks out of the bathroom, he does it a little more carefully so he doesn’t end up straining himself again and forcing Bill to support him as he walks. He gives a little nod of thanks and a wave to the doctor, and he and Bill make their way out of the hospital, with Bill leading the way.

“Are you sure you’re like - good to walk, dude?” Bill asks, slowing down to keep pace with Ted’s stumbling.

“Yeah, dude, I’m - I can handle it,” he insists, though he immediately wishes Bill would just wrap an arm around him to help him walk again anyways.

Though he doesn’t, Bill does stick close to his side, walking right at his elbow, and occasionally he wraps his hand around Ted’s arm, just to steady him if he pauses or winces at all.

The parking deck is big, but Bill doesn’t even have to say anything for Ted to recognize their van when he sees it. It’s not the same one - that rusty bucket probably gave up a long time ago - but this one is still beautifully painted, obviously Bill’s handiwork, and maybe Billie or Thea’s as well. It’s got the Wyld Stallyns logo on it still, a newer logo presumably, but still surrounded by colors and spirals. He smiles to see it, comforted by the unfamiliar familiarity of it all.

“The van looks good,” Ted offers.

Bill turns, frowning a little, then blinks, his expression clearing. “Oh, yeah - thanks, dude. Wasn’t just me, though.” He finally smiles a little, and Ted smiles back properly, relieved to see happiness on Bill’s face again.

Once they’re piled into the van, the ride from the hospital back to their house takes them back through San Dimas - but the view is mostly unfamiliar. To some extent, Ted is sure they just live in a new neighborhood now, but he also has a feeling that things have changed in the past 20-something years.

He doesn’t talk much - and Bill doesn’t really offer anything. Mostly, Ted feels they’re both still trying to process everything that’s happened. The radio is playing softly, but Bill doesn’t move to turn it up, and even Ted has the sense to know that he probably shouldn’t be blasting music with a concussion.

The house they pull up to is modestly sized, and looks like it was probably once a perfectly normal suburban home - but the thing is, it’s not. Just like the van, it’s marked as _theirs_ as soon as Ted catches a real glimpse of it. There’s a mural in the driveway, and their door is painted just like their old apartment door. Well - with a little more finesse, maybe, than a spray painted 69, but he knows Bill’s handiwork when he sees it. There are tapestries hanging in the window, too, and the attached garage looks nearly as big as the house, presumably used for their practice and recording space.

Ted hops out of the van once it stops and only regrets it a little as his back twinges. Still, he can’t resist throwing his arms out and turning back to face Bill, grinning. “Dude! This is our house!”

It’s obvious that Bill is still worried, but the furrow falls away from his brow as he laughs, walking over to Ted. “Yeah, dude. You like it?”

“Are you kidding?” Ted wants to spin around and pull Bill into a hug and shake his hands out and wiggle around all at once. Since he can’t do most of those things with his head aching and his back still tender, he just shakes out his hands a little and shuffles a little closer to Bill, nudging him with an elbow. “This is like, the coolest house ever. It’s perfect.”

Bill grins at him, and then turns to face the house, looking up at it almost like he’s seeing it for the first time. “Yeah, it kind of is, isn’t it?”

Ted watches him smile, and nods so hard he hurts himself a little, trying to mask his wince so he won’t make Bill worry. He loves the way Bill’s smile makes the little lines around his eyes stand out, the way his chin sticks still sticks out when he’s really grinning with his teeth. 

When Bill turns and catches him staring, Ted just blinks and smiles back at him, fiddling with his bracelets. “Is it just as cool on the inside?” He asks.

Shrugging, Bill pulls the keys out of his pocket and spins them around his finger. “Guess we’ll just have to see what you think, dude.”

He follows Bill up to the front door, and they make their way inside.

The house isn’t quite as cluttered or plastered with stuff as their old apartment or the outside of the house would necessarily imply, but Ted still finds the atmosphere immediately comforting. There’s framed concert posters and signed albums hanging on the walls, and pillows and blankets covering the chairs and couch in the living room.

There’s enough clutter that it feels lived in, but it’s definitely a far cry from their old bachelor pad.

Ted walks over to the walls to better examine all the artwork, the scattered fliers, and the albums. He stops in his tracks when he realizes that one is a Wyld Stallyns album - a platinum Wyld Stallyns album.

“Bill,” he says softly, frozen in front of the framed record, staring with his mouth open and his eyes wide.

“Yeah that’s uh - that’s the one.”

“We went platinum, dude? That’s - Bill even the _Ramones_ never went platinum.”

Bill stands next to him for a moment, staring at the album, then turns and watches Ted instead. “I guess you got a point, dude. But it’s - kind of been a long time now since that one hit. You’ll - you’ll remember soon enough.”

“Yeah, but like - man just the one is pretty wild, right?” Ted asks, turning to look at Bill. “Especially considering there for a while we like, couldn’t even play,” he jokes, laughing a little.

Snorting, Bill puts a hand on Ted’s elbow and nudges him along. “That’s true. But we actually can play now, I promise.” They move past the kitchen, into a hallway, and they pass a few notably blank spaces on the wall. Ted starts to pause and ask, but Bill just nudges him along again. “I asked Billie and Thea to - take some stuff down if anything looks weird. Anything too like - you know, stuff you wouldn’t remember. Didn’t wanna freak you out. I know it’s already a lot.”

“Oh,” Ted says, frowning again at the empty spaces on the wall. Were those family photos? Wedding pictures? Just pictures of Liz and Jo? A sudden fear grips Ted. “Dude are Liz and Jo - are they, like, okay?” he asks, unable to stop himself. “They’re not like - nothing happened to them, right?”

That gets Bill to stop moving, and Ted stops with him, watching his expression carefully. Bill just looks startled, though. “Oh. Yeah, dude, they’re fine, just - not here, obviously. In the house.”

“Okay,” Ted says. He’s still a little concerned - but Bill’s genuine confusion is comforting. It’s obvious that he’s trying to hide something, but apparently it isn’t grief. Ted’s relieved - both that the princesses are fine and that whatever Bill seems to be dealing with isn’t that outrageously heavy.

They pass a staircase, but they don’t go up, meaning that the girls’ bedrooms are probably up there. There’s a room on their left in the hallway, and Bill almost doesn’t even glance at it - but then he stops, so suddenly he tugs at Ted’s arm a little.

Whatever room it is looks - empty, except for a bed and a dresser. There’s not much on the walls, and while it looks clean and friendly enough, it also doesn’t have the kind of lived-in quality of the living room or the kitchen.

“Uh - well, this is your room, dude,” Bill says, his hand falling away from Ted’s arm.

Ted frowns, and his heart speeds up. He shuffles into the doorway and turns on the light - and nothing looks even slightly familiar. It’s unsettling, how wrong it feels to step inside this room and plan to sleep there - like it makes his skin itch.

He steps back out, and shakes his head. “But Bill don’t-” he stops, looking down at his feet and huffing out a sigh. “Sorry, that’s probably a stupid question.”

“Ted, you don’t remember anything. It’s okay.”

“I just,” Ted starts, scratching his fingers awkwardly against his jeans. “Do we not share a room anymore, dude? I guess - I mean maybe it got weird, so we don’t, or - maybe I guess it just makes sense, since we have the space to have our own rooms. I’m just not - used to it, you know, cause in the apartment we were still pretty excited about like - sharing a room. Like -” He cuts himself off, laughing a little, trying not to seem as embarrassed as he feels. “We used to say it was like a sleepover every night and all that stuff.”

Bill’s brow furrows, and he opens his mouth, then closes it again, and turns away. “We do still share a room, actually. I just - I wasn’t sure if you’d want to when you’re hurt, and - well, it’s also kind of - different now.”

“I think if anything sleeping on my own would be - most atypical for me, dude,” Ted tells him, moving closer. “But what do you mean different?”

“Well we don’t just share a room, now, dude. We kind of - share a bed,” Bill mumbles, scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.

“Oh,” Ted says - mostly because he doesn’t know what else to say. At first, he’s thoroughly surprised. Then, he glances at the empty bedroom again. It’s possible that when Liz and Jo were here, the two of them did sleep in separate bedrooms. That would make sense, after all. Now, though, with both of them accustomed to sleeping in a bed with someone else, they’ve gone back to sharing a room, and feel comfortable sharing a bed, too. It kind of makes sense that way.

Though he can feel himself flush a little, Ted shrugs. “Well, okay. I mean - it’s different, but I’d definitely rather do that than sleep alone. Especially when you gotta wake me up all the time, dude, I think it’ll be a much more effective sleeping arrangement.”

Bill glances at his face again, then nods. “Good point, dude. Uh. It’s this way, then.”

They move further down the hallway, and this time Ted finds himself in a room that eases the tension in his shoulders as soon as he steps through the door. There’s a stack of books on one of the nightstands, a notebook on the other, an acoustic guitar propped up in the corner. The big closet has its doors left standing open, so Ted can see all the clothes hanging inside, and there’s a dresser, too, with the knobs painted just like they were in the old apartment. In the old place, of course, they were painted specifically to reflect which drawer belonged to who - Ted isn’t sure if that’s still the case, but the alternating colors make it look that way.

He walks around the space, trailing his fingers over the dresser, ducking inside the closet to look through some of the clothes, and sitting on the side of the bed that obviously belongs to him - the side with the end table _without_ all the books.

Once he’s bounced up and down to test the give of the mattress, Ted looks up to find Bill watching him. He blinks and rubs his palms over the blanket on the bed, listening to the rasp of the fabric. “What is it, dude?”

The little wrinkle in Bill’s brow comes back again as he frowns, but he shakes his head and glances away. “Nothing, Ted. We should probably get some dinner ready. You should eat before you try to get any more rest.”

“Okay,” Ted agrees easily, stretching when he stands.

There’s a strange kind of quiet that falls between them as they make their way back out to the kitchen, and Bill starts to make dinner. It’s not that Ted doesn’t have anything to say, or doesn’t have any questions - he just also sort of suspects that much like in the hospital, Bill wouldn’t give him a real answer even if he tried to ask something.

On the other hand, every once in a while, it looks like Bill wants to say something, too, but then a frown will pass over his face, and he’ll stop himself.

It’s difficult, because both of them clearly want to talk to each other, but Ted just feels like he isn’t sure how. He sits on a stool at the center island, and watches Bill’s hands work as he chops vegetables and gets everything ready.

Finally, Ted gets an idea that will at least help them fill the silence. “Are there any like - killer albums that came out in the last 20 years, dude? I could always put some music on, and then I get to hear it for the first time all over again.”

Bill turns around and smiles. “Oh, excellent idea, dude. Uh - let’s see. ‘91. Battle of the Bands was in like… September, I think? Or…” Bill trails off as he keeps working, then stops again and turns around. “Oh - hey, shit, dude, you’ve never even heard Nevermind, have you?”

“Uh,” Ted says, frowning a little.

“Second Nirvana album, dude! Changed everything. We’ve got it on vinyl, just go grab it off the shelf and stick it on. It’s gonna blow your mind.”

Ted smiles, and stands up from his perch on the stool. “Okay, dude.”

The simple act of tracking down a record and sticking it on their old turntable brings Ted the same kind of peace it always has. Pulling the record from its sleeve and placing it down is still a familiar motion, and his hands are steady while he does it. It’s even still really the same turntable they had in 1991, too - there’s still an old smiley face sticker in the same place Ted put it in 1989, back when they first bought it.

As soon as the needle falls into place on the record, and the song starts, Ted is riveted. The way the kitchen connects to the living room means he can settle back on his stool and hear clearly, but he keeps his eyes locked on the speakers as he sits down - then finally just closes his eyes to focus completely on what he’s hearing.

The album doesn’t ring a bell at all - but it doesn’t have to for Ted to immediately feel a connection to it. Though the sound fits the 1991 scene, there’s an undeniable technical skill and originality, and that combined with the raw vocals and lyrics make Ted certain he would have loved this album in ‘91. He’s sure Bill did, too.

With music filling the silence, the time passes quickly.

Bill finishes cooking before side B is finished, but he just smiles as he quietly sets a plate in front of Ted, and doesn’t try to interrupt the album playthrough. Instead, he sits down next to Ted, and they both just listen to the rest of the album together without distractions.

The album fades to a stop, and the needle clicks as the record continues to spin. Bill gets up and takes it off, putting the record away while he keeps his eyes on Ted.

“So? What’d you think?”

Ted opens his eyes, and he just exhales slowly with his mouth hanging open, trying to process his thoughts.

Bill laughs a little, and he walks back over and nudges the plate on the table towards Ted. “That’s pretty much what you said in ‘91, too. That’s pretty much what we both said.”

“Dude, is all music since then that good?” Ted asks, finally picking up a fork and starting to eat.

“Some of it, yeah,” Bill tells him with a grin. “I can show you some more of the good stuff later.”

“Excellent, dude,” Ted agrees.

They eat their dinner together, just sitting there at the kitchen island rather than moving to a table or the living room. 

Oddly, as they sit there together, Ted finds his mind drifting to Billie and Thea. He may not know them well yet, but there’s signs of them all over the house, and he and Bill have been at home alone for a while now.

He clears his throat, still looking down at his plate. “Are B and T, like - still at the library? Did they get in touch with you or anything, on your phone?”

Bill looks up at him, clearly surprised. “Oh. Yeah, dude. They said they were gonna grab dinner out somewhere, in case you needed some space, still, and I thought that might be a good idea. Is it - does it feel kind of weird to you, too, not having them here?”

Ted laughs, and nods a little. “Yeah. I think it does. I don’t even - remember, you know, but it just feels wrong. I guess that’s sort of the one thing I do have is just - I don’t have the memories, you know, but I can still kind of feel if something seems off.”

It’s one of those things that Ted says without thinking, just reflecting on what he’s feeling, trying to understand how to navigate the world without clear memories - but just like earlier, Bill suddenly goes quiet. His expression is troubled, his brow furrowed, and yet again, Ted doesn’t know what he did wrong.

“Bill?” he asks, pushing his plate away, turning his focus to Bill, wanting to fix whatever the problem is.

But quickly, Bill picks up the plates and takes them over to the sink. “Yeah that - that makes sense, right? It’s kind of like - muscle memory or something.”

“Yeah,” Ted says softly, standing up from the stool and walking over to stand by Bill at the sink. “Or just - you know, my memories are still there, like deep down, and I just can’t get to them yet, or something.”

“Right,” Bill agrees kind of absentmindedly, nodding as he rinses off the plates. He grabs a bottle - but Ted notices just in time it is most assuredly not dish detergent, and he grabs Bill’s hand before he pours it on the plate.

“Dude - that’s vegetable oil?”

Bill looks at Ted’s hand, then at the bottle, blinking. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. Sorry.”

Ted eases the bottle out of Bill’s hand and frowns a little. “Were you at the hospital all night? You’ve gotta be tired, dude.”

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that, dude?” Bill asks, ducking his head over the sink as he actually manages to grab and use the dish soap.

“I spent, like, the whole time I was there asleep, Bill. You should just go to bed. Or - I mean, I don’t know, we can go - hang out in the bedroom or whatever. You can read or - I can see if I remember how to play the guitar at all,” Ted jokes, smiling a little.

Bill doesn’t laugh, though. “Yeah, just - gimme a minute to get these rinsed off.”

“Okay,” Ted says softly, and he carefully checks around the sink to figure out where the oil needs to go. In the end, he finds the place by the stove where there’s some other cooking supplies and sets it there, out of Bill’s reach for the moment. Then he just sits on a stool again and waits for Bill to finish up.

“I mean, you can go ahead and get ready if you want, dude. Just - get dressed or whatever, find the bathroom and brush your teeth, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Though he stands up, Ted hesitates for a moment. He can tell that something is wrong - and not just because Bill’s ears are still pink with embarrassment from almost pouring oil all over the dishes. He doesn’t want to push, though, still. Maybe Bill’s still not used to the new sleeping arrangements since Liz and Jo left - or maybe, Ted can’t help thinking, he’s just kind of tired of Ted hovering around and needing so much help with everything.

It doesn’t sound like Bill - he never used to be like that. But Ted’s footing is just unsure enough to give space to those unpleasant, sinking kinds of thoughts. Anyways - there’s no arguing that Bill wants him out of the room for the moment.

“Okay,” Ted tells him, walking slowly back towards the bedroom. “I’ll - see you in a minute, then.”

Bill only hums back, and so Ted steadies himself against the wall as he follows the hallway back to the bedroom, hunting out his pajamas. It takes him a couple of tries before he thinks to check the top drawer of the dresser, the one clearly painted for him, but that’s where he finds a worn pair of sleep shorts and an old Wyld Stallyns shirt to put on.

He manages to get changed in the bathroom, just like he did at the hospital, without straining himself. He can’t figure out which toothbrush is his, though, so he just uses some mouthwash to try and freshen up his breath a little. He has to focus on each individual task just so he doesn’t get overwhelmed by all the unfamiliar stuff in the bathroom - and just generally, how much more difficult everything suddenly seems without Bill’s help. 

For a second, when he steps back into the bedroom, he feels even more lost. Then he spots the guitar in the corner. He props some pillows up against the headboard, grabs the acoustic, and settles on the bed, sighing as the mattress and pillows relieve some of the stress on his back. 

He knows how to hold the guitar, still, he discovers, and he knows the same basic chords that he and Bill started with when they finally started to learn - that’s something. As he plays, though, he realizes he’s most definitely not any better than he was in 1991. He wrinkles his nose and laughs a little, but still, he plays the handful of riffs he can remember and starts messing around, seeing if he can piece together a melody.

At some point, Bill makes his way to the bedroom, but Ted doesn’t notice him until he looks up from the fretboard, surprised to find Bill in the doorway.

“Oh. Hey, dude. I - uh - turns out I’m kind of bad again,” Ted tells him, flushing a little as he smiles.

The look on Bill’s face is soft - his eyes half-lidded, his mouth quirked to one side. “Not bad, dude. Just kind of rusty. But - it sounds nice.”

Ted shrugs, and puts the guitar back down, off the side of the bed. “I was just messing around. I’m sure we can write better stuff than that now.”

Bill frowns a little, crossing his arms a little tighter as he looks away. “Well - guess it depends who you ask. I’m gonna - get changed, dude.” Bill jerks a thumb over his shoulder, and he grabs his pajamas before ducking into the bathroom and closing the door.

That’s strange, of course. He and Bill always used to just get changed in the bedroom, unless they took a shower and changed before they left the bathroom. Ted’s made a practice in their apartment out of forcing himself not to stare, accidentally sneaking glimpses out of the corner of his eye.

It makes no real sense that they’d be less comfortable around each other now. Ted finds he can’t even come up with a real explanation for that one - but he can’t just outright ask, either, why Bill won’t change in front of him, so he just scoots back into place on the bed and grabs the notebook off the nightstand to flip through the pages.

He finds that almost every page has a couple of random lines, written and then crossed out. It looks like he’s been struggling with his lyrics for a while. It makes a little sense - a lot of what Bill’s said would imply they’re in kind of a writing slump at the moment, even if he doesn’t seem to wanna talk about it.

Ted’s got a lot to think about, though, and nowhere to put it, so he grabs a pen and starts scribbling, trying to put everything into words. There’s almost certainly enough going on in his head to inspire a song or two. He writes until he hears the bathroom door open, then just shrugs at what he’s got and sets the notebook back on the table.

Bill looks up in time to see him with the notebook, but then just glances at it and then at him, and then away again. “Are you feeling okay, dude? Do you need painkillers or anything? You’re allowed to take just - specific ones, you know, if you need them.”

Ted shakes his head. “No, I’m okay.” He scoots around a little, getting his legs under the blankets, and leans back against the pillows. “Is this like - sorry I have to ask, but if we usually go to bed later than this - what do we usually do, dude?”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Bill stretches his back out, then shrugs. “Uh - well, depends on if there’s anything on TV, you know. Sometimes we watch stuff or listen to records with the girls. Sometimes we’re in the garage again, after dinner, trying to work on stuff. Sometimes we just uh - come in here a little early and-” Bill pauses, stumbling over his words, flushing slightly. “Sometimes I read, before bed, so sometimes I read out loud and stuff.”

Smiling, Ted turns his head towards Bill. “Like in high school? When you used to read the books out loud and stuff, cause I had trouble with it.”

“Yeah, like that,” Bill agrees quietly.

“Well - you’re probably kind of tired for that, aren’t you?”

Turning his head, Bill actually looks at Ted properly, eyes moving over his face. Then he snorts a little and reaches out, fingers brushing over Ted’s ear. “Ted, you bonehead, you left your earring in again,” he mutters, and he unhooks the back, gently taking it out before he places it in Ted’s outstretched hand.

Flushed, Ted smiles and glances down at the little hoop in his hand. “Thanks, dude.”

“No problem, dude,” Bill says, and he finally settles in against the pillows, sitting up next to Ted. “But - I don’t think I’m too tired. I can probably read a chapter or two. Just let me set some alarms first so we can make sure you wake up every couple of hours.”

“Okay,” Ted agrees, reaching over to place his earring on the end table before he scoots further under the covers, getting comfortable.

He turns just his head towards Bill, watching the line of his back in his threadbare sleep shirt. It’s actually so worn it’s almost see-through in certain places, and it means that Ted can easily see the shape of his shoulders, and the muscles in his arms. Bill taps at his phone for a moment, then grabs a book and something else off the nightstand before he turns back and settles against the pillows. When Ted looks up from Bill’s hands, where he’s flipping through the book, he finds a pair of reading glasses settled low on the bridge of Bill’s nose.

It feels silly, how suddenly Ted feels like his heart might leap out of his chest. There’s just something about the glasses - maybe it’s the way Bill’s squinting over them for a moment, or the way his eyes look even bigger behind him. Maybe it’s just that Ted’s never seen him in them before - but whatever it is, the sight is utterly endearing.

Ted knows that he’s staring, but he can’t seem to pull his eyes away.

Bill glances over and catches him, and his ears go a little pink again, and he takes the glasses off. “Oh. Uh. Sorry.”

“For what, dude? You need ‘em to read, right?”

“It’s not too - weird?” he asks, gripping the glasses tight in one hand.

Slowly, Ted shakes his head. “No. They look good, dude. You’re rocking it.”

That actually makes Bill laugh, and he smiles as he puts the glasses back on and looks down at the book in his hands. “I don’t know about all that, dude - but thanks anyways.”

Even though he’s tempted to insist that Bill looks most handsome, he stops himself, and pulls the blankets further up his chest, sliding his arms underneath. That seems like too far even for this surprisingly permissive future, so he just bites his lip and glances at the cover of the book in Bill’s hands.

The title doesn’t ring a bell, and Bill flips back to the beginning of the book, tucking the bookmark against the back cover. “I’ll start over, since you don’t remember. It’s - kind of an old book, but we both like the author, and the way he writes. If you don’t like it, though, you can just tell me.”

Ted shrugs, and gets comfortable. “I’ll probably just fall asleep listening to you read, dude. That’s what always used to happen in high school.”

Bill smiles. “Yeah, that’s usually still what happens now.”

Laughing, Ted lets his eyes slide closed. “At least some things don’t change.”

“Guess they don’t,” Bill says softly. Then he clears his throat, and starts to read.

A couple of times, Ted opens his eyes again to sneak glances at Bill. His gaze is focused on the pages, his brow furrowed behind his glasses. He looks so incredibly handsome, his profile all backlit by the bedside lamp, his curls just a little bit messy.

Maybe it’s strange that Ted so easily feels the same way now he did at 21 when Bill looks so different - but Ted has a feeling that he’s always felt like this. He can’t imagine it ever would have gone away - it’s probably still just been tucked away in his chest while he and Bill got married and had kids and started a family.

Yet again, Ted feels lucky to have made it this far, and to have what he does. He closes his eyes, and lets Bill’s voice wash over him. The language in the book is a little antiquated, but it sounds lovely, and he feels like he catches most of the meaning from Bill’s emphasis and the passion he puts into the dialogue.

Eventually, Bill’s voice falls into a soothing kind of background noise, and Ted falls asleep.

His dreams seem to come in snapshots. The tendons on the back of Bill’s hands, a hospital room, the mural in the driveway, two little kids air guitaring in the yard. There’s a few distinct images like that - ones that Ted feels like could be important, but he has no context, and they slip away again quickly.

By the time the morning light is coming in through the window, he can vaguely remember Bill waking him every couple of hours to check on him, but it’s all kind of blurry.

He blinks, bleary, and realizes that Bill is sitting on the floor by the window, plucking gently at the guitar.

He watches for a moment, the way Bill’s fingers move over the strings and the frets with practiced ease, and the way it makes his hands look. Then, carefully, he sits up a little to stretch, testing out the limits of his back and neck.

“Morning, dude,” Bill tells him.

“Morning, Bill,” Ted says happily.

“You don’t uh - you don’t remember anything yet, do you?”

Ted blinks, and furrows his brow, testing himself. He still doesn’t know, though, anything he didn’t just find out yesterday. He doesn’t know where Liz and Jo are, can’t remember when the girls were born, or when they got this house. It’s all still frustratingly blank. He sighs. “No. Sorry, Bill.”

“It’s okay. Probably would have been, like, a miracle if you got it all back overnight.”

“Yeah,” Ted agrees - but he can see the disappointment in Bill’s expression, even as he tries to hide it. Guilt sinks in his stomach, even though he knows Bill told him yesterday it isn’t his fault. He doesn’t like knowing he’s upsetting Bill when there’s nothing he can even really do about it.

Bill fiddles with the guitar for another moment or two, then sets it aside and slowly stands up, stretching. Ted watches the way his shirt rides up, and glances at his soft stomach, and the lines of his hips where they disappear into shadow at the waistband of his pajama bottoms. He wishes Bill wasn’t so out of reach - but then again, maybe at the moment, it’s for the best that he can’t touch. He might overstep again if he isn’t careful, and make Bill uncomfortable the way he did at the hospital.

It’s frustrating, having to relearn the rules with Bill. Ted’s so used to being comfortable around him, and being on the same page, the disconnect is difficult to deal with.

This morning is a little easier, though, than the day before. Bill tells him which toothbrush is his, and Ted brushes his teeth before Bill lets him take a shower. They eat breakfast in the kitchen, and Thea stumbles downstairs at one point to grab some Pop-Tarts, and waves wordlessly at both of them.

She looks so much, in that moment, like Bill used to when he had to wake up for work early in the mornings when he had a shift at Pretzels N’ Cheese. Ted laughs a little to himself about it, and Bill shoots him a look once Thea’s gone again.

“Sorry. She just - looked just the way you used to whenever you had to wake up for work, dude. Whenever you used to be so tired the alarm would wake me up, and then I had to like - shove you into the shower so you’d get to your shift on time.”

Bill cracks a grin at that, and laughs a little. “Man, yeah. I haven’t thought about that in - years, dude. It’s been a long time since we had to work at Pretzels N’ Cheese.”

Ted nods. “I’m sure, dude. I doubt anybody with a platinum album needs to work at Pretzels N’ Cheese for extra cash.”

Though Bill snorts out another laugh, he looks away and swirls his coffee mug, his brow furrowing a little.

It’s another strange sign that there’s some kind of problem with the band or the music, beyond whatever’s going on with Liz and Jo.

Of course - it’s possible the two things are related, if Liz and Jo are actually so distant they left the band, too. Ted frowns, and fidgets a little, trying to distract himself so he doesn’t ask another question to make Bill upset. “So - uh, I guess we usually work on music during the day, right? Is that - gonna work, you think, now? I was writing a little last night, and I know you were playing this morning, dude, but - like since I don’t really remember how to play anymore…” Ted trails off.

“I could always give you lessons, dude,” Bill offers, leaning against the counter. He’s grinning at Ted, clearly joking a little.

Still, Ted just shrugs and smiles back at him. It’s an excellent idea - which is hardly a surprise, since Bill came up with it. “I mean - why not, dude? Maybe it’ll help me remember.”

“Oh,” Bill says, setting his mug down. “That’s - a really good point, actually, dude. Let’s try it.”

Once they’ve cleaned things up in the kitchen, the two of them head into the garage - which is way bigger than their old practice space, and absolutely transcendent.

Here, the walls really do look like their old apartment, absolutely covered with posters and fliers - although a good number of them are for old Wyld Stallyns shows and tours, and Ted marvels over all the dates, and designs, and colors. There’s a poster for when they apparently toured Japan, magazine clippings from when they played the Grand Canyon. Ted gently runs his fingers over them all, totally in awe of all the incredible stuff the band’s gotten to do.

The rest of the stuff is excellent, too, though. They still have some of their old posters - Ted recognizes the 5150 tour poster that used to hang over his bed in his dad’s house, and a Motley Crue poster that used to be in their apartment bedroom. There’s a sagging couch in the middle of it all, and Ted sits down just to keep marveling at everything on the walls. Instruments are tucked in all the corners, too - not just standard guitars, but a 12-string acoustic, a couple of bass guitars, a trumpet, some drums. It’s a most impressive setup when Ted compares it to Bill’s dad’s old garage.

“Dude, this is - incredible,” Ted says softly, still staring at everything, eyes darting around. “Do we use all this stuff?”

“I mean - sometimes. We’ve learned how to play a bunch of instruments over the years, dude.”

Ted grins, and turns to face Bill. There’s a strange look on his face, though, as he watches Ted. They lock eyes, just for a moment, and then Bill looks away, going for his guitar.

“Here,” Bill says, and he takes his SG in one hand and uses his other to hand Ted a Flying V. It’s funny - because even if these aren’t the same guitars they had in ‘91, or at least aren’t painted the same way, he and Bill are still playing the same models, all these years later.

They both get settled on separate ends of the couch, and Ted adjusts his grip on the fretboard as he looks up to settle his gaze attentively on Bill.

“Okay so - how much do you remember?”

Ted shrugs, and walks Bill through some chords and simple stuff - the same kind of stuff he was doing last night, just now on the electric. “That’s - pretty much all though, dude. Nothing fancy.”

Bill smiles, and laughs. “Oh man, okay. I forgot I didn’t even teach myself how to play Eruption until after - the Battle of the Bands and all that stuff.”

“No way,” Ted says quietly, his eyes widening as he glances down at Bill’s hands. “Dude, do you really know how to play Eruption?”

That makes Bill grin, and he fiddles with the knobs on his guitar for a minute before he plugs in. “If I’m rusty, dude, you can’t make fun of me,” he says, but before Ted can even do anything except shake his head, Bill’s biting his lip to focus, and starting in.

He knows all kinds of people have taught themselves how to play Eruption probably, and what makes Eddie so impressive is that he wrote it - but to watch Bill’s fingers move almost effortlessly over the frets and replicate the sound is like a revelation. Clearly Bill isn’t just decent at guitar now - he’s like, really good. Really, _really_ good. Ted watches with his mouth hanging open, and his face growing warm.

It’s always nice to watch Bill play, just like this morning, to see the focus on his face and the way his hands move - but this is Bill playing one of the finest pieces of music ever written, and doing it without even breaking a sweat, still sitting down with his guitar in his lap. His tongue sticks out of his mouth a little bit, and Ted - Ted, very abruptly wants a lot of things he hasn’t thought about since he woke up in the hospital. Things he usually only thinks about in the shower or late at night hidden under his blankets after Bill has fallen asleep.

The way Bill’s fingers are moving, Ted can’t stop himself from - _wondering_ \- and it all gets tangled up with how genuinely impressed he is by Bill’s improvement as a guitarist, and suddenly his own face is heating up and he’s grateful he has a guitar in his lap.

When Bill finishes, the last note rings out and he looks up at Ted, his eyes hooded and his grin tilted up on one side, more like a smirk. “Well? Can I play it?”

“Bill that was-” Ted stops himself, his face growing warmer as he searches for words. “Most impressive,” he settles on, mostly because it seems less obvious than a lot of the other things he still kind of wants to say. “Like. Beyond impressive, actually dude. You said we knew how to play, but I didn’t know you were like - I don’t know. That you could play like that.”

That actually makes Bill flush slightly, and his smile softens. “You can, too, dude. You’ll get it back. It’s not as fun playing without you.”

Ted smiles, and looks down at his guitar, fiddling with the tuning keys. “I guess you better teach me some stuff, then.”

They spend most of the day like that, there in the garage, on the couch. Ted sort of had visions of guitar lessons from Bill being a little more hands-on, but mostly they stay facing each other, and Bill demonstrates things on his own guitar and waits for Ted to follow him. By the end of the day, they’re able to play a little in harmony, even though Bill is still obviously the more talented of the two of them. Ted’s fingers feel clumsy - not sore or out of practice, really, because presumably he’s still been doing this every day for years - but he just doesn’t know how to hold them in the same way anymore, and he keeps stumbling through notes.

It leaves him frustrated as they head in for dinner - which immediately makes him grateful that Billie and Thea are already there, getting dinner started and flicking vegetable scraps at each other over the kitchen island.

“The ‘person who eats cleans up’ rule doesn’t apply to food used as a football, girls, don’t forget,” Bill says, ducking out of the way a little as a potato peel goes flying past him.

“We know, Dad,” Billie and Thea say in chorus, smiling at him.

“We’re totally gonna clean it up, pinky swear,” Thea tells him. 

Bill actually goes over then, with his pinky held out. Thea rolls her eyes, but wraps her pinky around his and shakes on it.

Ted grins as he watches all of this happen, and finds it almost impossible to even remember why he was mad in the first place.

“Good day of work on the new music, dads?” Billie asks, biting at her thumb as she sits on one of the stools.

“I think we’re gonna take a little bit of a break while your dad’s still recovering, Billie,” Bill tells her, and he pats her on the shoulder as he passes behind her.

“Makes sense,” she tells them both with a nod. “Are you feeling okay, dader? Little better now you’re home and rested?”

Ted stretches out his neck a little, and shrugs, trying not to nod so hard he hurts himself out of habit. “Better, I think, yeah. Thanks, B.”

She reaches out a hand, and without even really thinking about it, he goes over and wiggles their fingers together, only a slightly altered version of the little handshake he and Bill used to do. Her grin widens, and she leans over to put her head on his shoulder, an arm around his waist. “I’m glad, then,” she tells him, squeezing him once before letting him go. “And anyways, Dad, you guys deserve the break. You’ve been working way hard lately, even before Dader got hurt.”

“Thanks, Billie,” Bill tells her, and he comes up beside them to kiss the top of Billie’s head.

Thea comes over, then, and wraps one arm around Bill, one around Ted, and rests her chin on top of Billie’s head. “Hey, I want in on the family lovefest.”

Bill laughs, and hugs her tight, kissing her on the temple. Billie wraps an arm around her sister’s waist, and Ted puts an arm around Thea, too, which means his hand goes all the way around to Bill’s back, completing their little family circle hug.

Ted’s wondered sometimes since he got home about how much he might have assumed or gotten wrong about their family dynamic just from the brief interaction in the hospital - but it’s obvious now that Billie and Thea weren’t just happy to see him because he’d been injured. They really are a family - all four of them - and there’s obviously no question that the four of them love each other. It’s almost enough to get him a little choked up. Just this one little moment that seems commonplace for everyone else there, but for Ted feels like a quiet revolution, like nothing else he’s ever gotten to have - a happy house, and his own happy family. He kisses the top of Thea’s head, then Billie’s. He shifts his hand until he finds Bill’s, and squeezes tightly.

“I love you guys,” he tells all of them, unable to resist.

Thea and Billie perk up at the same time, looking at him with matching grins. “Aw, we love you, too, Dader!” they say in unison.

He gives them a watery smile, and then feels Bill squeeze tightly at his hand. He looks over to make eye contact, and Bill isn’t quite smiling at him, but he’s got that kind of soft, fond look on his face that Ted’s seen a couple of times now. He doesn’t remember seeing it when they were younger - but now he thinks it might be his favorite of Bill’s expressions.

“I love you, too, dude,” Bill says.

Ted squeezes his hand again, and grins, and Thea ducks away, waving her hands. “Okay, okay, that’s enough, enough for one night, I love you, dads, but I have my limits.”

“I’m just like, also starving,” Billie admits, hopping out of the hug to grin at Ted before she spins around and goes back to helping her sister get dinner ready.

For a moment, Bill’s fingers stay tangled with his - and then they slip away, and Bill’s hand falls back to his side.

Ted, once he has his hand back, wiggles his fingers a little and rubs his palm against the denim of his jeans. He wants to take Bill’s hand back, or go over and wrap an arm around him, but it feels different without the girls there. Instead, he leans forward and presses his hands against the kitchen island, settling on a stool while the girls make dinner.

Conversation comes a lot easier with Billie and Thea in the room. The two of them talk about music - some Ted knows, and some he doesn’t, but Bill seems unaware of some of it, too, which makes him feel a little better. Then they move to head injury research, asking Ted questions before they reassure him that sometimes it takes a couple of months to fully heal, so he has plenty of time to get back to normal. He doesn’t miss the way Bill winces at that - but Ted really does find it comforting that he’s not a lost cause yet.

Fortunately, after that the conversation turns back to music again, and Bill gets distracted chatting with them.

Ted honestly just enjoys listening to all of them. He sits there, arms resting on the counter, and smiles to hear Bill’s honest encouragement of their passions, and their excitement to share them. It’s another reminder that this house is nothing like the old Logan household. It makes him so proud of Bill - and maybe even a little proud of himself - for being able to raise daughters who seem so at ease with themselves and unafraid of being loud and excited about things.

After dinner, Billie and Thea clean up the kitchen floor and counter and head up to their rooms, and he and Bill are left to clean up the dishes. 

For the first time since he got home, things feel totally normal. Bill’s humming as he washes up, and Ted dries just like always, occasionally using the silverware to tap out a beat. Bill flicks soapy water at him, and Ted giggles and dodges. It turns into a half-hearted splash fight - until Ted whacks Bill with the soggy towel hard enough that it makes a wet slapping sound, and Bill bursts into laughter.

Ted’s still giggling as he turns back to the counter, trying to focus on figuring out where he left off drying, and Bill is grinning as he ducks over the sink. When he passes Ted a plate, though, he pauses for a moment, puts the plate back in the sink, and rubs his thumb over Ted’s arm.

“Ted, you’ve got-” Then he looks up, spots Ted’s face, and laughs again. “Dude, you’ve got soap like all over. C’mere.”

He reaches up, and Ted leans down, and Bill brushes a finger down the bridge of his nose, and then carefully brushes a thumb under his eye.

Neither of them pull back right away. Bill’s hand rests there on his face, warm and still a little damp, and Ted leans into the touch, almost nuzzling, feeling totally at ease. Bill’s thumb rubs over his cheek again, and Ted’s eyes slide shut.

There’s a tender kind of aching moment where everything feels like it’s slotting into place - and then Bill tenses up, and drops his hand, and turns back to the sink. “Uh - there. Got it.”

Ted opens his eyes and frowns, confused and - oddly hollowed out. “Bill?”

“What, dude?”

“Why’d you-” Ted hesitates, trying to find the words. “You keep doing that, dude. Touching me and then - pulling back like that. I thought-” Ted’s words catch in his throat for a moment, and he glances away. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m the one - I’m probably not making any sense, am I? Maybe you’re the one being normal.”

Bill’s hands stop moving, and he turns, just slightly. “What do you mean, Ted?”

“I guess I thought-” Ted laughs a little, ducking to hide behind his hair. “Just in my head, I thought like, the future was different, and maybe it wasn’t weird for us to - touch like that. Like if we got married and stuff and had kids, maybe people didn’t say stuff anymore.” Frustrated, Ted sighs and sets down the towel. “I don’t think I’m saying it right. I’m sorry, Bill, I’m - I guess when I woke up in the hospital I just got - confused. Cause you keep - you keep pulling away, like I’m probably supposed to. I didn’t mean to make it weird. I’m sorry I - hugged you and stuff, and - I don’t know, anything else I’ve done that’s weird, dude, I’m sorry.”

Bill stops working completely to listen to Ted, and when Ted does glance at his face again, Bill looks most distressed. His brow is furrowed, his mouth all pulled down, and Ted just feels like he screwed up all over again.

A horrible thought crosses Ted’s mind, and the cold, sinking feeling in his stomach gets worse. “Was I - was I wrong about the bedrooms, too? I know my stuff was in there but - do we not share or - I didn’t mean to push, dude, really, I didn’t, I’m just so - it’s hard to figure stuff out, you know?”

“Ted,” Bill says softly, and Ted winces, his mouth snapping shut.

He braces himself, expecting Bill to let him down easy somehow, tell him how much he’s screwed up.

Instead, Bill wraps a hand around Ted’s wrist, thumb pressed to his pulse, and tugs him gently away from the counter. “Ted, hey. Don’t do that, dude. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Ted just shakes his head a little.

A hand settles on the back of his neck, and Bill guides him over to a stool and helps him sit. “I screwed up, dude. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to freak you out. The - the touching thing is all me, okay? You didn’t get it wrong.”

“I didn’t?” Ted asks quietly, still afraid to make eye contact, staring at the floor, hiding behind his hair.

“You were right in the hospital. The future really is better. We touch all the time, dude, I just - I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. But you don’t mind?”

Ted shakes his head, grateful he doesn’t have to answer with words.

“Can I hug you?” Bill asks softly, placing a warm, gentle hand on Ted’s shoulder.

Ted nods, and that prompts Bill to pull him close. He tucks Ted’s head against his shoulder, which is easy while Ted’s on the stool like this. There’s one arm around Ted’s shoulders and another around his waist, and Bill holds him close like that, his nose and cheek pressed to Ted’s temple, just above his ear.

“I’m sorry I freaked you out,” Bill says, his voice rough and miserable. “I didn’t mean to, I promise, dude. I didn’t even think - I didn’t realize how it might look to you. I just - I was so worried I’d make you uncomfortable, touching you too much when you weren’t used to it, so I tried to be careful but - I’m just so used to it I kept doing it anyways and then realizing what I did. I should have just asked you or something, Ted. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, dude,” Ted says, muffled against Bill’s shirt. “I know it’s hard. It’s not like any of this makes a lot of sense and I’m sure it’s - scary, you know?”

Bill’s hand slides up to the center of his back and presses there, holding him right. “But it’s gotta be scarier for you. You’re the one who doesn’t remember anything, and - I really didn’t mean to make it worse.”

“You didn’t, dude, it’s okay.”

“Okay,” Bill says softly, and he tightens his arms around Ted for just a moment, squeezing him gently before he steps back and takes Ted’s hand. “Is this okay?”

Ted smiles, feeling his face heat up just slightly, and nods. “Yeah, dude, totally.”

Bill nods back, and then tugs Ted off the stool. “C’mon then, dude. Let’s go to bed. I think that’s enough excitement for you for one day.”

Even though he laughs, he lets Bill pull him along towards the bedroom, happily stumbling close enough behind to keep their hands linked.

He hasn’t gotten to do anything like this with Bill, just hold his hand while they were walking, since they were kids. He likes the way he can feel Bill’s calluses against the back of his hand, the way he can rub his thumb over the tendons and veins in Bill’s. Before he can even really get his fill of it, though, they’ve made it to the bedroom, and Bill pulls away to grab his pajamas for him.

“Here - I’m gonna go get changed, but if you need help with anything, just yell, dude, okay?” 

Ted takes the bundle of clothes in his arms, and nods, staring up at Bill. It’s nice to see him smiling again, and visibly more comfortable. Sure, he’s still not changing in front of Ted - but to be fair, judging from his own response to Bill playing the guitar earlier, maybe that’s for the best.

When Bill’s finished changing, Ted joins him in the bathroom so they can both brush their teeth, their elbows nudging as they stand in front of the mirror. He also actually remembers to take out his earring on his own before they climb into bed.

It’s nice now to turn facing Bill on the mattress and feel like if their knees bump or something, Bill won’t tense up or push him away. He doesn’t reach out, though, still a little worried about being presumptuous.

He watches Bill put his reading glasses back on and open up the book they were reading last night - but then he pauses. “Ted?” he says, quietly.

“Yeah, Bill?”

“Well, just - usually when we do this, you actually kind of - lean on me so you can see the book if you want. Or - I dunno that you’re always looking, dude, but the point is, if you do want to, you can get all up in my space. I’m kind of used to it.”

Ted, for a moment, just blinks at him.

“Not that you have to, dude, obviously, I just - you know I wanted to say, cause I thought it might help, but - sorry if that was like-”

Without hesitating, Ted shifts Bill’s arm out of the way and curls up against his side, head on his shoulder, arm over his waist. Bill’s so warm, and comfortable, being so close to him immediately puts Ted at ease. “Is this good?” Ted asks.

Carefully, Bill brushes Ted’s hair back from his face, and then pulls his hand back, holding onto the book again. “Yeah,” he says, his voice a little bit rough. “Yeah, dude, that’s good.”

So happy that it’s almost overwhelming, Ted turns his head to nuzzle against Bill’s shoulder, and then wiggles around a little, getting comfortable and getting his extra energy out. The fabric of Bill’s shirt is so soft, and Ted can feel Bill’s muscles and the softness of his stomach underneath it. He shivers a little, and curls closer, finally turning his head enough that he can see the book.

“Are you gonna start now?” Ted asks, glancing up to check Bill’s face.

But Bill isn’t looking at the book - he’s looking down at Ted, his eyes all hooded behind his glasses, a soft little smile on his face. Even when Ted catches him looking, Bill doesn’t look away, and Ted smiles back at him, flushing a little before he has to duck his head back down, hiding.

“Dude, come on, read,” Ted tells him, nudging his head against Bill’s shoulder.

“Yeah, okay,” Bill finally agrees, and he squirms around a little, too, getting comfortable before he starts reading.

As they lay there cuddled up, Ted finds he’s still so happy he can barely focus on the words. He’s too busy being preoccupied with the feeling of Bill’s shoulder under his head, Bill’s waist under his arm. It’s true that this isn’t all Ted’s ever wanted - but especially back in their old apartment, this is so much more than he ever thought he would get. He remembers how cautious he and Bill used to be about even hugging each other, springing apart even in private and making jokes. Now here they are cuddling, and sharing a bed.

“You seem most absent tonight, Ted,” Bill tells him, placing a gentle hand on the back of his head again.

Ted lifts his head up enough to make eye contact, and blinks. “Sorry, Bill. I guess I was just - thinking about stuff.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

For a moment, Ted feels a little self-conscious - but then he realizes that he and Bill have probably had this conversation or some variation of it before, and he just doesn’t remember it. He picks a little at the fabric of Bill’s shirt, and looks down to hide behind his hair. “Yeah. I mean - I know you probably know all this, but I was just thinking about how nice this is, and how - how happy I would have been back in 1991, you know? If we could have done stuff like this. I always kind of wanted to, I just thought we couldn’t, and - the future’s just nice. This is all really nice.”

Bill’s quiet - long enough that Ted starts to worry a little.

“Bill?” he asks, squeezing his arm around Bill’s waist gently.

“Sorry,” Bill says, his voice rough again. “Sorry, I just - yeah. I know, dude. I -” Bill stops, and cuts himself off. 

“What is it, dude?” Ted asks, looking up. “Is it - Liz and Jo stuff?” Ted asks, nervous that he’s somehow made Bill remember again whatever it is that’s been distressing him.

Saying that, though, only seems to make it worse, and Bill frowns, his brow pulling down as he looks away, turning towards the wall. “No, it’s - don’t worry about it, dude. I’m glad you’re happy with the way things are.”

Something about the way Bill says it makes Ted tense up - immediately he can sense that he’s done something wrong again, but he doesn’t know what.

Bill pets back over his hair again, though, and then settles his gaze back on the book. “Let’s just go back to reading, okay?”

“Okay, Bill,” Ted agrees, softly - and he decides, then, that he won’t bring up Liz and Jo again unless Bill does it first.

For a few days, after that night, other than Ted’s one misstep while they were reading, it seems like the touching fixes almost everything. Bill seems a lot more comfortable, and he smiles a lot easier while they’re having breakfast or practicing guitar if Ted pulls him into a casual hug, or lays his head on Bill’s shoulder.

Billie and Thea usually aren’t at breakfast, but sometimes they wander through around lunch - and they usually do make it downstairs for dinner, which is always the best part of the day. 

It never feels like _they’re_ treating Ted any differently, aside from sometimes checking in with him about his head injury. Generally, they talk about completely unrelated things, and they distract both Bill and Ted. The kitchen in the evening is always full of laughter, and easy affection, and Ted lets it soothe his growing worry about the fact that he still can’t remember anything.

The girls said it might take a month or two for him to heal completely, and while he believes it, by the end of the first week, he can tell it’s starting to take a real toll on Bill.

Every morning, Bill asks if he remembers anything - and while Ted keeps having strange blurry dreams that might be memories, they always fade by the morning. He doesn’t have the context to help them make any sense, either.

That means every morning, he shakes his head, and Bill grows a little more visibly disappointed, a little more worried, and a little more distant.

He’ll still smile if Ted wraps around him in the mornings, but it’s brief, and tight, and then he seems to get lost in his own head again.

Ted wishes, desperately, that he knew what was actually wrong so he couldn’t just make it worse asking again. He wishes he could remember anything at all that would help him know how to fix it. More even than he wants all his good memories back, he wants to be able to help Bill, and know what to do to make him less - lonely.

Even the girls seem like they can tell something is wrong. They keep up their usual rounds of encouragement about their research every night at dinner - but they keep watching Bill’s expression, now, instead of his.

About halfway through his second week home, when Ted wakes up, Bill isn’t in the bedroom, or even just in the bathroom. Instead, after Ted brushes his teeth and stumbles down the hallway and into the kitchen, Bill’s already finishing up his coffee at the table.

Ted stares at him for a minute, and when Bill doesn’t react, he goes over to sit down. “Hey, dude. What are you doin’ up so early?”

“I gotta go - do some stuff today. Band stuff,” Bill mutters, tapping his fingers next to his mug. “And - I think I’m just gonna have to go by myself. I mean, just since you don’t really remember, and I don’t wanna freak you out.” He glances up at Ted, just briefly, but then fixes his gaze back on his coffee. “So you can just stay here, and the girls should be home today once they wake up, and I’ll - be home in time for dinner, okay?”

It opens up an ache in Ted’s chest when he realizes Bill isn’t going to ask if he remembers anything. He doesn’t, of course - but the fact that Bill didn’t even check makes it feel like he’s giving up. Ted swallows, though, and nods, still looking at Bill’s face, even though Bill won’t look up at him. “Okay, dude. Makes sense.”

Bill nods, and pushes his coffee mug away. “Okay. There’s cereal or - stuff in the fridge if you wanna make something. I’ll see you later.” He kisses Ted on the temple as he passes by, but even though it’s something he’s never done, it’s so fleeting and absentminded that Ted can’t really appreciate it.

After the door closes, Ted just sits there, long enough that his stomach starts to growl - and that’s what finally convinces him to move.

As he gets himself a bowl of cereal, Ted realizes this is basically the first time he’s really been left alone since he got home, except for the brief times Bill was out of the room. Even then, he’s always known Bill was coming right back, or that he could call for him. Now, Ted doesn’t even know where he’s actually going, or really when he’ll be back, except “in time for dinner.” He still doesn’t even remember how to really use his phone, and he’s yet to ask Billie or Thea to teach him, so while theoretically he could try to call Bill or text him, it would be a pretty big undertaking.

The thing that’s really sticking in Ted’s brain, unfortunately, is the way Bill would hardly even look at him before he left. Something is most definitely wrong - and Ted is clearly going to have to remember or just figure it out on his own somehow.

Thea briefly stumbles through the kitchen for her breakfast, but she just waves and heads back upstairs like she always does. Fortunately, though, after she’s gone, Billie comes bouncing downstairs much earlier than usual.

She has headphones on as she dances over to the toaster, but when she sees that Ted is still in the kitchen, she takes them off and grins at him.

He can’t help but smile back. “Morning, B.”

“Hey! Daderino said you’d be home alone today while he ran some errands and stuff. You got plans?”

Ted looks down at his bowl, which has been empty for some time now, though he’s still sitting in the same spot. Then he looks back up at her. “Well. I might try to do some writing, I guess.” She smiles, and nods, clearly encouraging him, so he goes on. “I was working on something after I got home from the hospital, but I didn’t have a lot of time with it. And Bill’s been giving me guitar lessons, so I might be decent enough to put something together before he gets home.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan, Dader,” she tells him, and she nudges her shoulder against his before she goes to pull her waffles out of the toaster.

“Thanks, B.”

Without even being asked, she sits down on the other side of the kitchen island, across from Ted, and strikes up conversation while she pulls little pieces off her waffle. “How’s the head holding up? You feeling okay?”

“Not too bad today. I think my neck and back are basically fine, now, so it’s just - headaches and memory stuff, you know.”

“You remember anything yet?” she asks, so wide-eyed and casual that it hits Ted right in the chest again.

He has to look down at the counter, away from her face, and try to choke down his sudden emotion. “No, and I think your dad is starting to get - most concerned. Or frustrated, maybe or just - discouraged. I don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Billie says softly, and when Ted looks up, he sees her frowning. “Thea and I kind of - noticed it seemed like something was up, but we weren’t sure you wanted to talk to us about it since it still might be kind of - weird?”

“That’s - most considerate of you both. And insightful, too, B, but - it doesn’t feel weird. You just treat me like - me, and if anything it makes it a little bit easier to talk to you.”

Pushing her plate away, Billie smiles a little and comes to sit down on the stool next to Ted. “Yeah, I mean. We were trying to do what Dad said we all should, you know, just keep things the same so we didn’t stress you out too bad and it might help you remember but - I feel like he’s been acting most atypical. And Thea does, too, but - he won’t talk to us about it.”

Ted frowns. “Really? He won’t tell you either?”

Billie shakes her head. “Nope. We don’t know what the deal is, Dader.”

“So he wasn’t-” Ted cuts himself off, and his brow furrows. “He’s not like - upset about Jo?”

“Thea’s mom?” Billie frowns, her brow furrowing - and strangely enough, it’s an expression that reminds him of Bill more than himself. “Why would he be upset about her? She’s fine. I mean we don’t see her a lot, cause she’s super busy but - wait, is this the stuff Dad didn’t want us to talk about?”

Shrugging, Ted leans back against the island. “I dunno, B. I mean - if she’s fine, I don’t get why I’d get overwhelmed talking about it.” He pauses. “How - uh - well, I’m definitely probably not supposed to ask that. I just - I keep trying to figure out why he seems so bummed out, you know? A lot’s changed since 1991. There’s a lot that I’m missing.”

“You’ll get it back, though,” Billie says, with absolute confidence. She pats Ted on the shoulder. “Plus, I’m pretty sure whatever’s wrong with Dad is mostly just he’s like - worried about you, you know? You guys were totally good before you got hurt. You always have been. Even like - way back before me and Thea were even born, right?”

Ted nods, and he can’t help but smile a little. “That’s true. We’ve never really fought about anything. We’ve been best friends since like, kindergarten.” A memory comes back to Ted - one he actually still has, and he laughs to himself. “Our teachers even used to get us mixed up in school.”

Billie laughs so hard she snorts a little. “No way! You don’t even look alike!”

He shrugs. “We were just always together. Teachers used to mean one of us and say the other and it didn’t even really matter.”

That makes her roll her eyes, but she nudges their shoulders together again as she stands up. “See? You’ll be fine. You and dad are like, meant to be, just like those future people said. I bet you couldn’t change the world and all that stuff if you never remember, so I’m sure you’ll get it back. But - if not, you’ll totally figure it out anyways. It’ll be fine, we have like - proof.”

Though it makes sense he and Bill have told the girls about their traveling through time, her casual faith in him and in their supposed destiny still makes him a little emotional. She’s so smart, and so genuinely kind and positive - Ted has no idea how he got so lucky in the kid department. “Good point again, B,” he tells her, and she grins at him. As she goes back to her food, though, Ted wants to offer her something in return - support her the way she’s actively tried to support him. “What are you and Thea up to today?”

Billie ducks her head a little. “Well - I know you said you were gonna write today, are you - were you gonna go in the garage? Cause - sometimes if you and Dad aren’t in there Thea and I like to mess around a little bit and try to record some stuff? And that was kind of the plan, but I don’t wanna get in your way.”

Before she can even finish, Ted shakes his head. “No way, you’re not in my way. You two go ahead and take the garage, make something totally excellent. I can just stick to playing around on the acoustic in the bedroom. I think I wanna focus on just the lyrics and the melody for a little bit anyways. If I need to record anything, I’ll just stick my head in and let you know.”

She grins at him. “Thanks, Dader. Deal.”

She reaches out, and Ted wiggles their fingers together. Then, still, she stands up and does an excited little wiggle before she kisses him on the cheek and goes to run upstairs, probably to go tell her sister.

Feeling buoyed by their conversation, it’s easier for Ted to finally get up and rinse off his bowl, and take care of the other mess around the kitchen.

He keeps thinking, though, about Billie’s brief comment about Jo. The way she’d called her Thea’s mom, distinctly, and the way she so casually said they rarely see her. That must mean Liz and Jo have been gone so long it’s a pretty distant memory for the girls - and it also probably means that he and Bill have mostly raised them on their own. It’s no wonder their little family feels the way it does - but still, that only raises more questions about why Bill reacted so strangely in the hospital.

Beyond that, it leaves the wedding rings completely unexplained.

Of course, it might not even be a wedding ring, maybe. What does Ted even know about the future? Maybe he and Bill just have - matching ones.

The more Ted tries to justify any of it, though, the more he just finds himself heinously confused. He’s never gonna make sense of any of this without Bill’s help, and Bill’s already so unhappy that Ted would feel awful bringing up the one thing that seems guaranteed to make him pull away again. Either he has to make Bill upset, again, and just hope for a real answer this time, or he’ll just have to wait to get his memories back.

All the frustration and confusion, though, does at least make for excellent writing inspiration.

Once he gets settled back in the bedroom, he starts with the lyrics, first working from just a rough attempt to write his feelings out, then trying to turn them into something with a level of rhyme and rhythm. Then he picks the guitar up, trying to figure out a melody, and finds that it’s easy to lose himself in it. He passes hours that way - long enough that the light changes outside, and he looks at the clock to find that Bill should probably be home before too long.

What he’s got of the words and melody is probably enough to show Bill, if Bill’s at all in the mood to hear it. Ted sighs as he puts the guitar back down, and stands up to stretch out his back.

He decides to go into the kitchen to see if he can get dinner started, but he finds that Billie and Thea are already there, huddled in front of one of their weird little future computers - which he still finds most impressive, but he’s seen enough that he’s not realized surprised anymore.

“Hey, girls. How’d the recording go?”

“Hey, Dader!” they say together, grinning up at him.

“It went super well. Thanks for letting us use the garage today,” Thea tells him.

“It’s no problem, T. I’m glad you could make the best of it. All I really needed was a guitar anyways - I don’t think I’m quite ready for a recording yet. Should probably run it by your dad first anyways, make sure I’m not just - rewriting a song I don’t even realize I remember.”

Billie laughs at that, and he smiles at her. He kisses them both on the top of the head, in passing, and makes his way to the fridge, looking inside to see what they’ve got. It’s true he wasn’t the world’s top chef in 1991, but because of how often he and Deacon had been left at home alone together while their dad was at work, Ted had learned how to do okay for himself. In fact, out of him and Bill, he had usually been the one making dinner in the apartment.

He knows Deacon is doing okay, because Bill said he texted sometime last week to check in. He realizes, though, that this is the first moment he’s really actively thought about his father since he woke up. Bill hasn’t mentioned him, and neither have the girls - Ted has no idea where his dad is, or what he’s up to. He doesn’t really want to ask Billie and Thea, though, so he keeps the thought to himself and makes a mental note to ask Bill later.

When he finds most of what he needs, he pulls some stuff out of the fridge and starts prepping ingredients - and that’s when he hears the front door open.

He turns, and watches as Bill walks into the kitchen - and immediately he can tell that things didn’t go well. He stops, and sets down the knife to give Bill his full attention.

“How’d stuff go, Daderino?” Billie asks him - because the girls have closed their computer, too, watching Bill carefully.

“Uh - good, girls. Listen, why don’t you guys - go grab some pizza or something? My treat.”

Bill hands them some money - and while both of them glance back at Ted, and then over at Bill again, they look at each other, and shrug, and take the opportunity to head out.

Ted knows that’s exactly what Bill’s dad used to do, too, when he wanted to get rid of him and Ted for a little bit, for whatever reason. He doesn’t love seeing Bill do it now, even if he gets that Bill’s probably frustrated about something and doesn’t want to try explaining it to the girls when he’s still upset.

Once the door shuts again, Bill goes over to sit heavily on the couch, and Ted walks over to set on the armrest, checking his expression. “Hey - how’d it really go?”

“Just don’t worry about it, Ted, it’s fine,” Bill tells him, turning on the television, obviously trying to use it as a distraction.

“Dude,” Ted says, and he grabs the remote, turning the TV back off. “Come on, don’t do that.”

Bill frowns, and turns to face him. “Do what?”

“Look, I know I’m - missing some parts right now, but I’m still me, dude. I’ve known you since we were five. I can tell when you have a bad day, or when you’re not telling me something.” He sighs, pushing his hair back and looking intently at Bill. “There’s obviously something up with all the band stuff, and it’s not going well. It’s one thing if you don’t wanna make the girls worry, cause they’re our daughters, and they shouldn’t have to worry about money and stuff but - it’s me, Bill.” Ted moves and sits down on the couch properly, closing the space between them. “I’m sorry that I can’t do it right because I don’t remember everything, okay? If I - If I could fix all of that I would, but I can’t. But I can still listen. I still know you.”

When Bill turns and really looks at him, he’s a little flushed, and his face is all screwed up like he’s trying not to cry - Ted knows that look, too. “Ted,” he says softly.

“C’mere, dude,” Ted tells him, and when he holds out his arms, Bill slides closer and tugs him into a hug, pressing his face against Ted’s shoulder.

“You’re not missing parts,” Bill mumbles against him.

“I kind of am,” Ted says, sighing against Bill’s hair. “But like I said, I can’t really - fix that. I’m trying.”

“That’s not about trying, dude. I know you’re trying, and you’re not - none of this is your fault, Ted.”

Ted snorts. “It kind of is, dude. If I hadn’t fallen off that ladder, none of this would have happened.”

That makes Bill pull back, and he pushes a hand into Ted’s hair, cradling the back of his head as they make eye contact. “Ted, dude, hey. That’s not your fault either. It was an accident - it totally could have been me instead of you. Neither of us knew all that stuff about like - the brain stuff from the time we died. And I should have been out there to spot you anyways, I just - it’s not your fault, okay?”

Though he’s not sure when the conversation turned to him, Ted flushes, and nods, unable to hide from Bill’s gaze when they’re still so close. “Okay,” he says softly. “Does that mean you’ll tell me what’s wrong?”

Bill’s brow furrows again, and his mouth twists up as he glances away. “I just didn’t want you to have to deal with this stuff when you were healing, dude. It’s - dumb record label stuff, and money stuff, and - none of it even really matters. You getting better is a lot more important than any of that, and I was hoping they could see it that way, too. But - they really don’t, dude.”

Reaching up, Ted places a hand on Bill’s face and turns his head back so they’re making eye contact again. “What do you mean?”

Bill sighs, and leans forward, pressing their foreheads together as he closes his eyes. “We had like - an album deadline, that we were already way behind on, dude. Both of us have been in kind of a writing slump. We’ve just - we’ve been doing it for kind of a long time, you know? And our past couple of albums haven’t done so well. So - the label says if this one flops, they’re kicking us off, so I think we’ve both been kind of stressed, and - you can’t really write for fun when you’ve got all that breathing down your neck, you know? Neither of us can. They know you got hurt, and they know you’ve got amnesia but - they said today if we can’t bring them something by the end of the month, we’re getting dropped no matter what.”

“Something like - a song, or like a whole album?”

“I don’t know, maybe like a couple of songs. I guess just - proof we’ve been working on stuff, and good stuff. But I don’t know how we’re supposed to do any of that when you’re still hurt and I’m-” Bill cuts himself off, laughing a little, though it sounds sort of broken. “I’m most distracted, dude.”

Ted pulls back, then, wrapping his hands around Bill’s arms to push him back, too, shaking him a little. “Dude, I just wrote a song today! I mean - it might be totally heinous, but that’s something, right? And if you keep giving me lessons, I’m sure we can come up with some more stuff. I can totally fix this.”

Bill’s eyes fly open, and he blinks at Ted, surprised. “You wrote a song?”

Ted nods - and it doesn’t hurt at all. “Yeah, dude! I mean - plus the girls were working on stuff today, I bet we could ask them for help producing or something if we really needed it. But I totally wrote a song. I was gonna show you when you got home, just to make sure it wasn’t like - a song we already wrote, you know?” He smiles a little, and Bill grins back at him.

“Dude, I wanna hear it! You should play it for me.”

Laughing, Ted pulls his hands back into his lap. “You don’t wanna wait til after dinner?”

“No way, dude! Come on, let’s do it!”

Still grinning, Ted goes and gets the guitar and his notebook from the bedroom, and comes back to the couch. “Okay, but you can’t rag on me too hard if it’s totally bogus. I still like - barely know how to play again, and I’m still like - stuck in the 90s, music-wise.”

Bill laughs, but settles on the couch facing Ted, his legs curled up in front of him. “Stop apologizing before I’ve even heard it, dude.”

“Okay,” Ted agrees, ducking behind his hair as he laughs again. He checks all the strings, making sure things still sound in tune, and then reminds himself of the basic chords - and then he looks back over at the notebook and starts to play.

It’s pretty simple, in terms of melody, and Ted’s well aware of that. Still, he feels like the lyrics came out nicely, and he feels himself gaining confidence as he pushes ahead through the song, barely stumbling over the notes. He feels at the very least like Bill can get a sense for the rhythm, and the basic gist of how the song might sound fully produced.

When he hits the second repeat of the chorus, he slows to a stop, letting the last note ring out before he clears his throat and puts down the guitar. “Is that - it’s not like, secretly a Nirvana song I forgot about or something, is it?” Ted jokes, glancing over at Bill with a cautious smile.

Bill laughs, but his eyes are still wide, and looks like he’s teared up a little. He blinks, and shakes his head. “No way, dude. That was - I can’t remember the last time either of us wrote something like that. That’s really, really good, Ted.”

Ted flushes, and resists the urge to pick up the guitar again just to hide behind it. Instead, he clenches his hands into fists in his lap. “Really?”

"Yes way, Ted! Dude, that’s - we should work on it some more tomorrow, but we can totally record a demo of that to take to the label. If we can write a couple more songs like that, we might actually like - we might actually make another really good album, dude.”

Ducking behind his hair, Ted stands up. “Okay, well - I think first we should probably eat dinner, dude.”

“Oh - yeah,” Bill agrees, standing up, too.

It turns out making dinner is still pretty fun even with just Bill, as long as Bill’s in a better mood - and finally it seems like Ted has discovered what was really making Bill so distant. He talks all through their cooking, and all through dinner, about music, and plans for their album. It feels like he really has Bill back, all lit up like this. In fact - the way he’s laughing and smiling really does almost make him look a little younger, and for just a moment - Ted’s a little sad again, wishing he could remember all the ways he’s ever gotten to see Bill. Back in their 20s, but what Bill must have looked like in his 30s, too. Ted wonders when he started going grey, and when those lines around his eyes appeared.

He wants, too, very abruptly, to pull Bill close and kiss the mole right by his temple - to nuzzle into his hair and kiss his jaw, and his neck - to do a lot of things he knows he probably shouldn’t do. Instead, he just leans his head against Bill’s shoulder, like he so often does while they’re in the kitchen, and watches Bill smile when he springs back up.

They spend all of dinner talking about music - and talking through the concerts that both of them still remember, like the first time they saw Van Halen, and the first time they decided they wanted to try and start their own band.

Since Bill’s had a most stressful day, Ted picks up the dishes when they’re both finished and takes them over to the sink to start washing. While he’s standing there, though, Bill comes up behind him and wraps his hands around Ted’s hips, thumbs edging up under the hem of his shirt.

“C’mon, dude, the dishes can wait,” Bill says, his voice all low where he mutters the words against the back of Ted’s neck.

Ted can’t help but shiver a little, focused on the way the callus on Bill’s thumb feels against his hip. Some kind of instinct makes Ted drop his head to one side, and Bill leans up to nuzzle in against his neck, automatically going where Ted makes space for him. It makes Ted shiver again, and giggle a little, as he presses his hands over Bill’s on his hips. “Tickles, dude,” he says softly.

“You always say that,” Bill tells him, and his hands move further around Ted’s waist, sliding over his stomach, one of them tracing the scar above his belly button.

“I - uh-” Ted starts, but stops again, way too distracted by the feeling of Bill’s hands moving over his bare skin. “Did you wanna watch a movie or something?” Ted asks, his voice still slightly breathless. He’s aware, very abruptly, of the fact that he’s starting to chub up in his jeans, and the last thing he needs right now is to ruin the perfectly nice night they’re having by making everything weird.

“Wh - oh,” Bill says, and his hands stop, abruptly. “Oh. Uh. Yeah.” He starts to pull back, awkwardly, but Ted makes a little noise and presses his hands over Bill’s again, reluctant in spite of his own logic.

“You don’t gotta stop, dude.” Ted flushes, and ducks his head, pulling his shirt up so he can intertwine his fingers with Bill’s. “It’s nice,” he says quietly.

“Ted,” Bill says, voice all tight and overwhelmed. He presses his hands flat against Ted’s skin again, and presses his forehead against the nape of Ted’s neck. “I - forgot you don’t remember, dude. You’re still hurt.”

Ted’s heart speeds up a little. “Do we - not usually do this?”

“No, it’s - it’s not that."

“Well then what’s the problem? Just - treat me like normal,” Ted tells him, leaning back against him.

“I can’t, dude,” Bill says, squeezing at Ted’s hands.

“Why not?” Ted asks, turning his head slightly, wanting to look - but Bill leans his face right in between Ted’s shoulder blades, hiding there.

“I don’t think you’d like it anymore,” he says, so quiet Ted almost can’t hear him. 

“But - why wouldn’t I? If I used to?” he presses, still confused, and still all flushed and over-sensitive, still caught up in having Bill so close.

“I dunno, I - there’s just stuff you don’t remember that I don’t think I realized you could forget.”

It’s obvious there if there was any kind of moment happening, it’s passing. Bill seems frustrated and upset - and Ted lets go of his hands, and turns around, reaching out to grab Bill’s shoulders so he can’t get away. “Dude, you gotta talk to me.”

“I can’t!” Bill insists, pressing his own hands over his face. “Dude, I just - the song sounded great, and dinner was really nice, everything just felt so normal I almost kind of - forgot, you know? But you’re hurt, and there’s stuff I still can’t tell you. I’m sorry.”

That makes Ted’s stomach twist up again. “I thought the music stuff was all of it.”

“Well it wasn’t,” Bill says, staring intently at the floor. “You’re missing like - 20 years, of course there’s other stuff.”

Ted’s hands clench around Bill’s shoulders, and then he drops them, letting them fall back to his sides. “Thought you said I wasn’t missing any parts,” Ted mumbles.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Bill says quickly.

Sighing, Ted turns back around and goes back to washing off the dishes. “Yeah. Okay, dude.”

“Ted, I didn’t, I just - it’s a lot of stuff you don’t remember and - and some of it’s important, dude. Important to me and - I think important to you, but - it’s kind of scary that it’s all just gone.”

“I know, dude,” Ted mutters, scrubbing at his plate. “I’m - still scared, like all the time, that the girls are wrong and I’m never gonna get it back, and I’m just gonna be stuck like this. But I know you’re worried about it, too, so I try not to freak out so I’m not freaking you out but I get so - frustrated when there’s nothing I can do.”

“...I’m sorry,” Bill says, after a moment. Slowly, he steps up behind Ted again, and wraps around him in a hug, arms over Ted’s shirt this time. “I didn’t mean to make it worse.”

Ted sighs, and drops his head forward, leaning over the sink. “I know, Bill. I’m sorry, too.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Ted. You don’t. You’re - probably right. I just wouldn’t even know where to start and - I didn’t mean to ruin our night, dude. I don’t wanna make it worse again. Let’s just watch a movie. You can go pick something out, and I’ll finish the dishes, okay? And then once the movie is done we can go to bed and - everything’s gonna be fine. Okay?”

Leaning back, Ted lets Bill take some of his weight - and Bill holds him easily, squeezing him just a little bit tighter around the waist. “Okay, dude,” Ted says softly. He rubs his hands over Bill’s arms for a moment, letting their hug linger - and then he pulls away, slowly. He smiles a little, trying to joke as he walks away. “No, like, ragging on my movie choices, though.”

Bill snorts, and smiles just a little, his mouth quirking up at the corner. “Okay, dude. Deal.”

This, fortunately, isn’t the first time he and Bill have watched a movie, so it’s not the first time Ted’s gone looking through their DVDs - but he’s still not used to the smaller cases and the weird little discs. Still, trying to search out something fun to watch, he finds their collection of Star Trek movies, and grins when he catches sight of The Voyage Home. He pulls it out without thinking about it, mostly focused on the silly plot and the way he and Bill always used to call it “the one with the whales” - but as he’s sitting there, he very abruptly remembers it’s also the one where Spock still has amnesia, and Kirk has to keep reminding him of all the things they used to like to do together.

It hits strangely close to home, and he’s still just sort of sitting there on the floor holding the case in his hands when Bill comes back from the kitchen.

“Dude did you - oh. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Ted says, shoving the case back in. “Just - uh. Still trying to pick something.”

“Well what about-” Then Bill glances over, sees him sitting in front of the Star Trek collection, and smiles. “Oh, yeah! The one with the whales, that was always your-” He pauses, and his brow furrows. “Oh. Right. The - Spock stuff.”

“It’s kind of sad now. Just - right now. Maybe - maybe once I can remember stuff.”

“Yeah,” Bill says, sitting down on the couch. “And there’s no way we can do Wrath of Khan right now. But uh - what about…” He trails off, looking over their collection. “What about Star Wars instead? That should be fine, right?”

Ted lights up, relieved. “Yeah, totally. Let’s do it.”

So he puts in the movie, and settles on the couch - and immediately cuddles close, leaning against Bill’s chest. Bill wraps an arm around his chest, one hand placed over his heart - and as the music starts, and the familiar text scrolls up the screen, Ted starts to feel okay again.

He dozes off, actually, during the movie, and Bill wakes him up just to nudge him gently to the bedroom. They get ready for bed together with Ted still half-sleep and stumbling, and when they fall into bed, Ted wraps himself around Bill like it’s second nature, practically unable to stay away. 

In the last moments before he falls back asleep, he feels the soft press of Bill’s lips against his forehead - so soft he almost wonders if he dreamed it.

That very next morning, he and Bill both seem to feel strangely shy about the night before. They’re both a little more cautious to touch again, flushing when they bump into each other, trying to remember how to navigate their shared space.

When they’re in the kitchen for breakfast, though, Bill leans against Ted’s back again, arms around his waist, like he can’t help himself. Ted leans into the embrace, and then - after that, all day, they’re touching more than ever.

They spend most of their day working on the new song in the garage, but now Bill will come up behind Ted and help adjust his hands on the guitar by pressing his fingers over Ted’s. When they start trying to record vocals, they stand so close their shoulders and arms are pressed together, and sometimes Bill even leans in so they’re very nearly cheek to cheek.

When they finally see the girls at dinner, Ted feels like both of them are trying to keep a little distance again - but Bill keeps bumping his knuckles against Ted’s hip as he walks by, nudging their shoulders or their elbows.

Billie and Thea watch them, laughing, and finally Thea clears her throat to say, “Well you seem - better, dads.”

Ted ducks his head, feeling strangely embarrassed, and he hears Bill almost choke on his water.

“Well - your dad wrote a really excellent song yesterday,” Bill says after he’s gathered himself.

“Yeah?” Billie asks, grinning, obviously proud.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Ted answers, smiling back at her. “I think it’s gonna turn out pretty good.”

“He said you guys were working on some stuff, too,” Bill prompts them, taking the attention off himself and Ted.

The girls seem pretty aware of what he’s doing - but still, Billie eagerly launches into a discussion of their new sample work. Ted still doesn’t fully understand everything about how the technology works, but he can recognize intelligence when he hears it. Their girls are smart - and undoubtedly talented, even though he hasn’t heard any of their stuff yet. He still wants to suggest to Bill properly that the girls help out with the new album, uncertain why they haven’t been helping already, but he doesn’t want to bring it up in front of them until he feels like Bill’s really considered it.

That day marks the first where they really start working in earnest on their music to help pass the time. After the first song is mostly done, at least to the extent of what they can do, they talk it over and decide to put together a little three-song demo that Bill can take into the label offices before the end of the month.

Once they start planning the second song, and Bill gets more involved in the writing, they both get a little more frustrated with their limited abilities while Ted doesn’t remember how to play anything other than a guitar. Bill’s obviously not frustrated with Ted himself - just the idea that the songs could be so much better if they were working on them at a better time. That’s when Ted manages to bring up the idea of having Billie and Thea help out, and Bill agrees most readily. 

The girls are able to make both of their first two songs sound a lot more professional, and Ted is endlessly proud of the work they do.

All their hard work makes the days pass quickly, though - and Ted soon realizes it’s been almost three weeks since he got home from the hospital.

Every morning now, he wakes up with Bill still beside him in bed, and he blinks away his strange fuzzy dreams, forced to tell Bill he still doesn’t remember anything else. 

Every night, though, when they get back into bed, Ted gets to curl up in their warm bed and let Bill’s voice put him to sleep. It makes him start to feel like even if he never gets his memories back - maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. He gets to have Bill, and Billie and Thea, and every day he finds out new things that makes him just love all three of them even more, even when he didn’t think it was possible.

Bill still won’t really talk to him, though, about anything else he doesn’t remember - and neither of them ever bring up whatever it was that happened that night in the kitchen. Whenever Ted remembers the feeling of Bill’s hands on his skin, and the way it all felt before the moment fell away, he feels like they came so close to talking about something important - he just has no idea what it was.

The one thing Ted does manage to remember to bring up with Bill and actually get an answer about is his father - Bill doesn’t even hesitate, groaning as he gets things ready for lunch.

“I didn’t even tell him you got hurt, dude. Why would I?”

Ted blinks, a little surprised, and frowns. “We don’t like - talk to him? Do you know what he’s up to?”

“Probably being shitty, like always. I don’t think we need, like, a monthly check-in for that,” Bill mutters as he starts aggressively chopping vegetables.

“Bill,” Ted says, almost chastising him.

“It’s not like I’m wrong, dude! You know I’m not.”

“Well, yeah, but-” Ted pauses, thinking back to all the things he can still remember. The things he’s heard his dad say about Bill, and about him, and about their band. If none of that ever changed, maybe he can’t blame Bill. Still, he’s never been able to get himself to say anything like that about his father, even if it might have been true. “Did something like - happen?”

“Other than the way he treated you your whole life?” Bill says, bringing the knife down again sharply against the counter. “I mean-” he stops, and sighs. “Well. Yeah. Sort of. I don’t wanna bum you out, though, dude, just - we kind of agreed Billie and Thea didn’t need to be around that, you know? Even Deacon hardly talks to him anymore. You’d think some part of that would have made him get his head out of his ass, but he never quite managed.”

Ted laughs a little, in spite of himself, and Bill turns to him, looking relieved.

“Remind me sometime if you don’t remember and maybe I’ll tell you about the time I punched him,” Bill tells him.

Going over behind Bill, Ted pokes him and practically begs for answers - but Bill, actually smiling and managing to joke about it for once, says Ted’s just going to have to wait for the story until it’s been at least more than a month.

Since the first two songs for their demo are finished, and Ted’s started scribbling thoughts for the third, he sort of plans to see if he can talk Bill into leaving the house that weekend - but instead, Bill decides that it’s the perfect time for him to actually fix the window over the garage, which has been covered with plastic ever since Ted got home.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea, dude?” Ted can’t help but ask, tense with nerves as he tugs at the fabric of Bill’s shirt a little, holding him close where they’re still tucked in bed together.

“I’m gonna stay inside, Ted. I’m gonna be up in the attic, and Thea’s gonna spot Billie on the ladder. We’re all gonna be totally safe, and you don’t even have to go near it, dude.” Bill knocks his knuckles against Ted’s chest. “Don’t worry about it. I promise it’s gonna be fine.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll - try to work on the last song, then.”

“Yeah! See, that’s a great idea.” Bill kisses his forehead - something that happens from time to time now even when Ted is awake. It still makes Ted blush every single time, and he ducks behind his hair to try and hide it as Bill pulls back.

They both get dressed - and Ted tries not to stare when Bill comes out of the bathroom wearing an oversized tank top that obviously belongs to Ted.

“We’ll probably be done by lunch time,” Bill tells him once they’re all settled and eating breakfast in the kitchen. Thea looks tired, but slightly less disgruntled than she usually does on weekdays. Billie looks pretty chipper, her hair in a little ponytail and her own usually stylish clothes traded for an oversized, threadbare Wyld Stallyns shirt.

“Okay, well - everyone just be careful, okay?” Ted tells him, leveling all three of them with a concerned frown.

“We promise, Dader,” Billie says, and she comes over beside him to wrap an arm around his shoulders and kiss the side of his head.

He squeezes her once, and sighs. “Alright. I’ll take it.”

“Pinky promise,” Thea adds, and she sticks out her pinky with a little smile.

Ted laughs, but he reaches out and wraps his pinky around hers so they can shake on it.

Once they’re done, he moves his hand and offers his pinky to Bill - and while Bill laughs, he wraps his pinky around Ted’s and shakes, too. They both let their hands linger there for a moment, elbows resting on the table, pinkies linked, smiling at each other.

Then Thea clears her throat as she stands up, and Bill flushes a little as he laughs, pulling his hand back to join Thea in taking the dishes over to the sink.

He watches Bill go up the stairs, and Billie and Thea stumble out through the door, waving at him - and then he’s alone. He can still hear them all working, though, at least. There’s hammering, and occasional conversation, and music playing tinnily through Thea’s speaker somewhere outside.

Nothing sounds too rowdy or unpredictable, so he assumes it’s going well.

Left to his own devices, he does manage to get some lyrics and a basic melody down for the last song - or at least a rough draft of something that might become the last song.

While the hammering noises are still going, though, Thea comes into the living room, sweating and red in the face, breathing heavy when she comes to flop onto the couch beside him.

“What’s up, T?” he asks, setting his guitar aside.

“Got most egregiously overheated. It’s super gross out today, Dader. Billie and Dad are both inside now, so nobody’s on the ladder, and I have formally requested a break.” She lifts her hair up off the back of her neck with her hand, and fans herself. “Plus they’re both way better at like - hands-on stuff than I am. I was mostly doing the spotting and moral support.”

Ted laughs. “Yeah, I get that.” He remembers something, and smiles a little. “I don’t know if I’ve told you, but I always made your dad fix most of the stuff around the apartment - and stuff broke like all the time. I did most of the cooking, though, so I felt like it kind of evened out. But back then neither of us really knew what we were doing, to be fair.”

Thea grins at him. “Yeah, no offense Dader, but your first apartment sounds like a total nightmare. I’m kind of glad that me and Billie didn’t have to find our own place yet.”

He nudges his knee against hers and smiles. “Well you don’t have to worry about that until you just want to. It’s nice having you around, T. You and B have been most helpful, especially while I’ve been hurt.”

Ducking her head, Thea shrugs a little, obviously shy - and Ted recognizes it as one of his own nervous mannerisms. Before he can get too emotional about it, though, Thea’s hair falls back in her face, and she sputters.

“Bogus,” she mumbles. “I really need a hair thingy, I totally gave mine to Billie.”

“Don’t you have more?”

“Yeah, but they’re all the way upstairs,” she groans, flopping back against the couch, still trying to keep her hair out of her face.

“I can go get it for you, if you want.”

She smiles up at him, sweetly - but then frowns. “Oh, Dader, you’re injured.”

He snorts. “Not really anymore, T. I think I can manage some stairs. Plus, you’ve been working pretty hard outside. I don’t mind.”

For a moment, she frowns - then she just shrugs, and the smile returns to her face. “Alright. Just - don’t tell Dad.”

“Deal,” he tells her, and he stands up and stretches. “Are they just - on your dresser or something?”

“Oh! Yeah, uh - my room’s the first one on the left, and they’re on my dresser or my vanity, probably.”

“Alright. Be right back.”

He realizes as he starts to climb that he actually hasn’t been upstairs since he got home. He’s just never had any reason to. The girls are usually coming downstairs to hang out, and when they’re upstairs Ted assumes they’re asleep or want their privacy.

The upstairs hallway is actually more painted than most of the areas downstairs. It looks like at some point Billie and Thea caught the bug and decided to paint the walls - they’re a soft shade of purple, with spirals and swirls and hand-painted song lyrics around their doors. He smiles to see all of it - and then turns as he reaches Thea’s door, and steps inside.

The walls in Thea’s room look remarkably like the ones in his and Bill’s old bedroom. She’s made a collage out of them - covered every inch with posters and stickers and postcards, from old riot grrl zines to big posters of Heart and The Indigo Girls. Ted smiles a little - but he tries not to look too closely or let himself get distracted. He checks the vanity first, but doesn’t see what he needs. He looks around a little more, and his eyes settle on the dresser - and there on the top, in front of a group of photos, is a small pile of hair ties.

He grabs one - but as he does, he can’t help but see what’s in some of the framed pictures, and he stops in his tracks.

One of them is a picture of Billie and Thea, probably at their high school graduation, gowns on, caps in the air, arms thrown around each other. Another is a photo of Thea on a stage, playing a guitar. There’s a photostrip tucked in one corner of the frame, pictures of Thea with a girl Ted doesn’t recognize, laughing as the two of them trade kisses on the cheek.

The one, though, in the center, is a photo that looks remarkably like a wedding photo.

A wedding photo of him and Bill.

They’re standing together in matching suits, their hands intertwined, their foreheads pressed together, and Billie and Thea are standing beside them. Billie’s nearly as tall as Ted, but still clearly younger, dressed in a suit with a crown of flowers perched in her curly hair, and she’s laughing as she throws flower petals in the air. Thea’s there, too, in a dress to match Bill’s suit, looking over at him and Bill, grinning.

As wedding photos, go, it’s pretty perfect.

He stands there staring, and he doesn’t know for how long. He looks at the rings in the photo, and then down at the ring on his finger, and he blushes.

There are tears in his eyes, too, and he’s not sure when they got there.

“Hey Dader? Did you find them?” Thea calls from downstairs.

Startling a little, Ted wipes his eyes and shakes his head. “Yeah, sorry, T! Be down in a minute.”

He glances one more time at the photo, then shakes his head again and leaves the room, heading back down the stairs.

It’s still only Thea in the living room, and he’s grateful as he hands her the hair tie and settles back on the couch, trying not to look like he’s as shaken as he most definitely is.

Much like her dad, though, Thea seems to catch on immediately anyways. She pulls her hair back and then looks hard at him, her brow furrowing. “You okay, Dader?”

He almost tears up again, and he blinks hard, trying not to. “Yeah, I - yeah. I’m fine, T.”

“You don’t seem fine,” she tells him gently, pulling her knees up onto the couch. “Is there something you wanna talk about? Or - something you remembered?”

“Well I-” He cuts himself off, and rubs at his face again. “I have a question, but - I don’t know if I should ask you. Maybe you should just tell me how to use Google again.”

“Is it cause it’s like - weird, or because it’s something you think Dad wouldn’t want you to ask?”

“Mostly because it’s probably going to sound kind of silly to you and - maybe your dad wouldn’t want me to ask, either, I don’t know.”

Ted feels her weight shift on the couch as she scoots closer, and puts a hand on his elbow. “It’s not gonna sound silly. You don’t remember stuff, so it makes sense you’re still confused. And I just - won’t tell Dad, okay? Don’t worry about it.”

He brings his hands down, and takes a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to word what he needs to ask. “Did you - I mean - Can -” He cuts himself off, and sighs, and pushes his hair back off his face. “Are your dad and I - married?”

When he glances over to check her expression, Thea looks totally shocked. She blinks a few times with her mouth hanging open, and then something twists, and her mouth gets all screwed up. “Oh, Dader,” she says softly.

“I - uh. You know in 1991, we - we couldn’t have. So I just - When I woke up and saw the rings I didn’t know.”

“I didn’t even think about that. It’s - it’s been legal in California since 2008. You guys were in line, like, first day. I remember cause you dropped us off at school and we were so excited we talked about it all day and our teachers totally got onto us.”

Ted laughs a little, but it’s sort of watery - and he can feel it as a few tears escape and roll down his cheeks. “I hope you didn’t get in too much trouble.”

“Oh we totally did,” she tells him, scooting closer to lean against his shoulder. “You and dad thought it was funny, though. We got ice cream to celebrate, and then we told all our friends that we got ice cream for getting in trouble. You were always the coolest dads out of like - anyone we knew. Everyone was super jealous.”

He laughs again, and wraps an arm around her to pull her into a hug. “I’m glad. I mean, your dad and I got in trouble at school all the time. It would have been silly if we got onto you about it. I know you know about the whole - history report.”

She squeezes him tight around the waist, just once, and then scoots back again. “You said that back then, too. A most reasonable attitude.” She wipes her own eyes, and then pats him on the knee as she stands up. “I have a feeling you and Dad need to have a talk. Like - real talk. So I’m gonna go see if they’re done in the attic, and I’m gonna try to catch Billie and make sure we get out of your way. We’ll probably go stay with a friend for the night or - maybe we’ll take the van and go camping or something. If that works?”

Ted frowns a little. “Are you sure, T? I don’t wanna - chase you guys out of the house if it’s not a good time, I can just-” He stops, though, not sure how he’d hide any of this from Bill.

She just shakes her head. “No way. I’m just saying - as long as you won’t worry about us. But now I’m deciding - we’re going, and you guys are staying, and we’ll text Dad to check in. Okay? Love you, Dader. It’s gonna be fine.” She kisses the top of his head as she goes behind the couch, and he hears her going back up the stairs and up towards the attic.

There’s a few minutes where Ted’s left sitting alone on the couch, hands twisting in his lap.

Then Billie and Thea come bounding down the stairs, each with a backpack over their shoulders. “Bye, Dader, see you tomorrow,” Billie calls out. She goes over, wraps one arm around his neck, and nudges her head against his before she pulls away. “If Dad does anything dumb just tell me and I’ll totally take your side,” she whispers. “But - I’m sure it’s gonna be fine.”

He laughs a little, and pats her hand, and then she and Thea are waving at him and bouncing out the front door, Billie doing a little spin as she goes to close the door behind her.

Before long, Bill comes down the stairs, a lot more slowly than the girls did, and Ted turns to see him staring at the door. “Did they leave already?” he asks.

“Yeah, they uh - seemed pretty excited about the camping trip.”

“Yeah. Seemed most spontaneous, though,” Bill mutters, frowning a little. Then he looks at Ted, really looks at him, and his expression softens a little. “Are you okay, dude? Is something wrong?”

Nerves quickly settle in Ted’s stomach, and he clenches his hands into fists in his lap, trying to brace himself. “Uh well - there’s something I kind of need to - ask you about, dude. But if you need to like, shower first or - get a glass of water or something, you totally should, it’s - it’s kind of not a casual conversation.”

“That sounds - most heavy, Ted,” Bill says.

“It kind of is, dude,” Ted says, looking down at his lap as he fidgets. “I’m not - I don’t remember anything still, I just - I kind of figured something out.”

“What is it?” Bill asks, coming over to sit on the couch.

Ted can’t help but glance up, just to look at him. His eyes move over Bill’s messy curls, and the sweat on his forehead, and his collarbones, where they peek out of Ted’s old tank top. Then he glances down at Bill’s hands, unable to stop himself, eyes seeking out his wedding ring. It matches Ted’s perfectly. Maybe for a while, Ted just didn’t really let himself linger on the details - really, in some sense, he’s sort of been avoiding the idea of the whole thing. He thought he knew dudes couldn’t get married, and he couldn’t figure out the situation with Liz and Jo, and he’s been so worried about upsetting Bill again.

“Dude - why - why didn’t you just tell me we were married?” Ted asks finally, only able to glance up through his hair to check Bill’s expression before he looks away again, stomach twisting.

“You - I thought you said you didn’t remember anything.”

“I don’t,” Ted says quietly, shaking his head. “Thea - had me go get something out of her room and I saw a picture on her dresser. But you can’t blame her, dude, it’s been like - three weeks since I got home, and that’s-” Ted clenches his hands into fists again, trying to stop himself from fidgeting. “That’s a really long time to hide that.”

“I wasn’t trying to hide it, Ted,” Bill insists, scooting forward on the couch. “I just - you didn’t remember, and I didn’t know how to correct you at first, and then it just got - worse. Harder to try and explain everything, and you -” Bill stops, and swallows. “I kind of thought maybe you’d freak out,” he says quietly, his voice all hoarse.

“But if we’re like - I just - I guess I don’t get it. I’m just so confused, dude, I’m -” Ted’s voice gets choked again, and he can feel his eyes start to sting, and he presses the heels of his hands against his face, trying to stop himself from crying. “Is there, like, a reason? Did you - did I mess it up?”

“Mess - dude, mess what up? What do you mean?”

“I mean did I - are we, still, I guess? Do you wanna be? Was there something wrong before I got hurt you don’t wanna tell me about? Do I just - not get what it means? Cause I - parts of it make sense, you know, and parts of it don’t, and - Thea says we got married like 7 years ago now, and that we were excited to once it was legal, but - but maybe it’s not the same, maybe I-” Ted’s voice catches, and he sniffs a little, and Bill lurches forward, wrapping his around around Ted’s shoulders to pull him close.

“Ted - Ted, dude, come here, it’s okay, it’s okay, I’m sorry.”

Ted leans his weight on Bill immediately, arms going around his waist, face pressed to his shoulder. “You don’t have to be sorry,” he mumbles against Bill’s shoulder.

“I definitely do, dude. I think maybe I’m - kind of the worst husband ever.”

That makes Ted laugh a little in spite of himself, a watery little chuckle, giddy with the sound of Bill calling himself Ted’s husband - and he nuzzles against Bill’s shoulder. “No way, dude. I bet you do great.”

“Well right now I’ve been doing - really shitty apparently,” Bill says, pressing one hand firmly to the back of Ted’s head. “I love you, dude. You didn’t do anything wrong. You - you said that thing about Liz and Jo in the hospital and I kind of just - freaked. I should have said something, but I didn’t know how and I - I was kind of worried maybe you just-” This time, Bill’s voice catches, and he presses his face against Ted’s hair, kissing the top of his head. “I guess I thought - maybe you forgot so far back that you didn’t feel that way anymore. You always said you liked me since high school, but then I thought maybe you just - exaggerated a little.” Bill’s arm around his shoulders squeezes tighter. “I guess I was a little bit scared maybe you’d never get it back. Cause things are - different now, you know? I look different, and - things just aren’t the way they were back then.”

“Bill,” Ted says desperately, pushing back enough to look at Bill’s face. He finds that Bill looks a little emotional, too, his face all screwed up, his cheeks flushed, his lips bitten red. Ted places his hands on either side of Bill’s face and presses their foreheads together. “I love you, dude. I loved you since like - middle school. I loved you in high school and I loved you when we moved in together, and I love you now - I loved you in the hospital, as soon as I saw you again. I - I woke up and I was so glad it was you, and you were there, and - you looked so handsome. That was like, one of the first things I thought.”

“Dude, I was like - exhausted,” Bill says, quiet and embarrassed.

“And so was I, dude! I - every night I watch you reading, and - when we’re in the garage and you’re playing your guitar, I just love you all the time, I’ve loved you my whole life, Bill, why would I stop?”

“I don’t know,” Bill says softly. “I guess I just - I got scared. But I should have just told you. You’re right.”

“It’s okay, dude. I get it. It’s hard.”

“Ted,” Bill says, and he moves his hands, grasping at Ted’s arms, and his shoulders, then one at the back of his neck.

Ted waits for him to say more, but he doesn’t, just lingering there, his forehead pressed hard against Ted’s, breathing heavily in the scant space between their mouths. “Bill?” he asks.

“Yeah?"

“Could you - could you say it again?”

“Say what?” Bill asks, nudging his nose against Ted’s cheek, pushing one hand into his hair.

“That you - love me.”

“I love you so much, dude. More than anybody. I’m sorry, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you-”

“Bill, it’s okay just - can you-” Ted exhales in a rush and squeezes his eyes shut as he feels his face heat up. “Do we kiss?”

“All the time, dude. Do you want me to kiss you?”

Ted nods, his forehead making Bill’s move with him, and Bill finally laughs a little at the motion.

Then he moves his hand again, hand squeezing at the back of Ted’s neck, thumb pressed to the space just below his ear, and presses his open mouth against Ted’s.

Though he feels clumsy at first, as Bill lingers, Ted relaxes and finds that it’s easy to kiss back, matching the motion of Bill’s lips, finding the right angle and letting Bill bite his lower lip and pull him in closer.

Bill pulls back panting, their mouths parting with a wet sound, loud in the quiet of their empty house. “Sorry. I - maybe got carried away, it’s just been almost a month, and I-”

Letting out a quiet sound of protest, Ted nudges forward and presses their lips together again, kissing Bill back, hard. He takes a deep breath through his nose and tries to pull back enough to be gentle, pressing his tongue against Bill’s lower lip in a little wordless apology. Bill, though, just grabs the back of Ted’s neck again, biting hard at his open mouth, sliding his tongue against Ted’s.

Ted knows that he never kissed Elizabeth like this - so he doesn’t remember ever kissing anyone like this. With Bill, though, it’s perfect. Bill presses so close and lingers so long it’s like he wants to kiss Ted forever - and Ted wants to let him. He rubs his hands up and down Bill’s back, tugs at his shirt, holding him close as they rock back and forth with the force of their kisses. Every time one of them pulls back to exhale, the other just pushes right back in. They keep scooting closer and closer, too, until their legs are all tangled and Bill is nearly in Ted’s lap.

By the time they both really pull back to breathe, both of them panting, Ted’s lips feel tender and swollen and damp. He licks his lips, and shivers with the feeling, nudging his forehead against Bill’s.

“Dude, this is,” Ted says, breathless, cutting himself off to laugh. He presses forward, presses another damp smudge of a kiss against Bill’s lips. “This is nice. You kiss really good.”

Bill laughs at that, and rubs his nose against Ted’s. “I got a lot of practice, dude.”

Ted giggles. “I guess so. If we really do - kiss like all the time.”

“Like all the time,” Bill tells him, leaning back in to kiss him gently, then kissing the corner of his mouth, and his cheek, just above his beard. “Every morning, and at night before bed, and at breakfast. We try not to do it too much in front of B and T obviously, but - pretty much any time I’m not kissing you, dude I still wanna be.”

Ted grins again, and wiggles a little before he presses another kiss to Bill’s mouth. “I wanted to kiss you all the time, too, dude. Like - in the kitchen when you’re making breakfast or at night, in your reading glasses, or in the garage when we’re playing together. Or like - in 1991, too, dude.”

“Yeah?” Bill asks, pulling back enough to finally make eye contact, then glancing down at Ted’s mouth, his eyes going all warm and hooded.

“Yeah, like when you picked me up from work, or - when you woke up first and got me a bowl of cereal and had it waiting, and you’d smile at me. Or like - in the van, at the drive in, sometimes, I’d think about it.”

“Me too, dude. When you came home from work and you used to like - flop down on the couch still in your uniform and like - wiggle around to get comfortable. Or when you used to shove me in the bathroom when I had an early shift.”

Leaning in for another kiss, Ted laughs into Bill’s mouth, and loves the way it feels when their teeth click against each other because Bill’s smile is pressed against him.

“I love you, dude,” Ted whispers when he pulls away again.

“I love you, too, Ted,” Bill tells him again, and Ted grins, doing another happy little wiggle in Bill’s arms.

Bill hugs him tight, and laughs, and for a long moment they just sit there in each other’s arms, Ted’s head on Bill’s shoulder, both of them finally truly at ease.

“I guess one of us should probably make dinner, since the girls aren’t gonna be home,” Ted says finally, squeezing Bill one more time before he pulls back.

Nodding, Bill tugs at the collar of his tank top. “Yeah, and I’m - most egregiously still in need of a shower.”

Ted laughs a little, and wrinkles his nose. “You kind of are, dude.” As he stands up, and tugs Bill with him, Bill shoves at him playfully.

Stumbling a little, Ted laughs - but it gets caught in his throat as Bill stands up properly, stretching his arms over his head and groaning with the exertion. Ted watches his shoulders, and his arms - the way his veins and tendons stand out. All their kissing has left him totally dazed, to the point he sort of wants to just lean in and press his mouth to Bill’s bicep, bite at the muscle there and see what kind of sound Bill makes - but he just flushes and looks away. He should ask before he does something like that. He’s excited he and Bill kiss so much, and kissing him was most resplendent, but that doesn’t automatically mean he can do whatever he wants. He still doesn’t know exactly why they got married, or how. 

He doesn’t know for sure what everything means - he just knows that Bill loves him, and that’s more than enough. He can keep his other thoughts to himself for now, just in case.

When Bill goes to take his shower, Ted goes into the kitchen and starts figuring out the options for dinner. He ends up deciding to make grilled cheeses, like he probably would have in the old apartment, because their most emotional conversation has left him wanting that kind of easy familiarity. He can picture them settling on the couch with their food and watching a movie or something to wind down, and he smiles to himself as he gets everything ready.

Ted’s still toasting the sandwiches in the pan when Bill comes padding into the kitchen, already dressed in his pajamas, his hair still damp where it falls over his forehead.

“That was fast,” Ted tells him, trying not to stare.

Bill laughs a little, and comes up behind Ted. He places his hands on Ted’s hips, as he so often does, and presses his cheek against Ted’s shoulder. “I just wanted to feel less like - grody. Didn’t wanna leave you out here by yourself too long, though.”

Ted ducks his head as he smiles to himself, and leans back into Bill’s embrace. “Thanks, dude. I’m just making dinner, though.”

“Well maybe I didn’t wanna be by myself too long, then,” Bill says, and he moves his hands over Ted’s chest and stomach, holding him a little closer. “I’m sort of - I missed you, dude. You know? Like you’re here, but the memory stuff made it hard and - then I made it harder by not telling you all the stuff I should have. But this feels - better.”

“Yeah, it does,” Ted agrees softly, placing one hand over Bill’s as he uses his other to flip the sandwiches. “Are you okay now, though?”

Bill shrugs a little - which Ted feels more than sees. “Kind of feels like you should be mad at me,” he says, muffling the words against Ted’s shirt.

“Dude, I don’t wanna be mad at you,” Ted replies, turning in his arms. “All that’s gonna do is make both of us like - sad. I missed you, too. I was worried about you all the time and I felt like I couldn’t help - but we figured it out now. I know I still don’t remember anything, so it’s not like - the same, but it’s good, right?” Ted reaches down and grabs Bill’s hands, weaving their fingers together. “We’re good?”

Nodding, Bill leans up on his toes and kisses Ted - first on the cheek, then softly on the lips. “Yeah, dude, we’re good.” He shuffles closer and wraps his arms around Ted’s waist, leaning against his chest. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Ted tells him, still a little giddy with the feeling of being able to say it, and hear Bill say it back. He rubs one hand over Bill’s back, and starts to place his other on the back of Bill’s head, to play with his curls - and then realizes he’s left the sandwiches unattended. “Oh - wait, sorry, dude-” he turns around, Bill stumbling with him, and quickly takes the pan off the heat. “Didn’t wanna burn the sandwiches,” he says, smiling sheepishly at Bill’s confused glance up at him.

“Smart, dude,” Bill tells him, smiling, and then he pulls Ted down into another kiss, this one soft and lingering.

Now that they’re both standing up, Ted can put his hands on Bill’s hips, and edge his thumbs up under his shirt, tracing the familiar lines that lead into his sleep pants. 

Bill hums a little, and kisses him harder, but then pulls back to breathe. “We should - eat, right?”

“Yeah - yeah, you worked really hard today, dude, you should eat.”

“Right,” Bill agrees, only he leans in and kisses Ted again, soft and slow before he pulls back, their lips parting with a soft, wet sound. “Right. Dinner. Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Ted echoes, and he squeezes gently at Bill’s hips before he drops his hands and goes to plate up their sandwiches.

This time, when they settle in to eat, instead of sitting on opposite sides of the kitchen island like usual, they sit next to each other. Their stools are so close together that Ted can easily keep his thigh pressed against Bill’s - and once he’s finished eating, he can lean over and rest his head on Bill’s shoulder, curled around him to stay close.

He closes his eyes and just stays there as Bill finishes eating, nuzzling against the soft fabric of Bill’s sleep shirt and wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Still okay?” Bill asks him at one point, petting over his hair.

Ted nods against him. “Yeah. I just like being close to you, dude.”

They wash up together after dinner, and while Ted’s drying up the last of the dishes, Bill does what he did the night they almost really argued, pushing his hands up under Ted’s shirt, rubbing them over his stomach.

“Is this still good?” Bill asks him, now hooking his chin over Ted’s shoulder.

Even as he shivers a little, Ted nods. “Yeah, dude. It’s good.”

He can feel the calluses on Bill’s fingertips as they trace over the line of his scar. His breath catches a little, and he tries not to fumble the plate as he dries it off and sets it back down. “Bill, I-” Ted pauses, and flushes a little. “I wanna ask something else, but I don’t know if I can.”

“You can ask me anything, dude. I promise.” One of Bill’s hands slides over to his hip again, squeezing gently, and Ted carefully places his hands over Bill’s. The more Bill touches him like this - the more he wonders.

“Do we like-” he cuts himself off and flushes, looking down to duck behind his hair as he rubs his hands over Bill’s arms, tracing over the veins with his fingers. “Do we like - make love, dude?”

That makes Bill stop, his hands settling against Ted’s hip bones. “I-” Bill stops, and Ted feels his face press against the center of his back again. “I mean yeah, dude. We’re married. Do you - I mean I guess you don’t remember and you’re still kind of hurt-”

“But you want to?” Ted asks, suddenly breathless, desperate to turn around and see Bill’s face, and kiss him, but more desperate just to hear his answer.

Bill squeezes at his hips again, like a reflex. “Of course I want to, dude, have you seen yourself?”

Ted laughs, flushed and embarrassed and giddy all at once as he turns and ducks down to press his lips against Bill’s, kissing him so hard their noses bump a little. “I want to, too.” He slides his hands up to Bill’s shoulders, nudging their foreheads together. “I think about it all the time, but I was - I don’t know, I guess I didn’t think I could get that lucky,” Ted admits, giggling a little.

“Oh, dude,” Bill says shifting his hands around to rest on Ted’s ass, squeezing gently. Ted makes a surprised little sound, and Bill laughs. “Dude, if anybody’s lucky it’s me - come on, though, let’s go to bed.”

“I think we’re both pretty lucky, dude,” Ted tells him, even as Bill tugs him down the hallway by his hand.

When they get to the bedroom, since Bill’s already in his pajamas, he settles on the bed - but instead of going into the other room to change, Ted stands there and takes his shirt off, standing in front of Bill. Once it’s off, and he shakes his hair out of the way, he catches Bill staring, looking at his hips, and his stomach, and up over his chest.

He can feel his face heat up, but still, he pops the button on his jeans, and shimmies them down off his hips, pushing them down further til he can shake them off and step out of them.

Then, he’s left in just his boxers as he walks over to the bed and steps in between Bill’s legs. “Is this - am I doing it right?”

Bill reaches out and places his hands on Ted’s legs, below the hem of his boxers, rubbing up and down the backs of his thighs. “You don’t gotta worry about that, dude.” Frowning slightly, Bill moves one of his hands to Ted’s lower back, pressing just gently against his skin. “We don’t have to do this, though, if you’re not sure. We can wait til you remember.”

“But what if I don’t remember, dude?” Ted says before he can think better of it, moving to sit on the bed beside Bill. “And now it’s like - like this is my first time,” Ted says softly, ducking his head and knocking his knee against Bill’s.

Bill reaches over and presses a thumb under his chin, tilting his face back up. He looks flushed - eyes dark and hooded, tongue darting out over his lower lip. “We should make it special, then, right? Maybe I should have like - taken you out for dinner, or-”

Shaking his head, Ted leans forward and presses their foreheads together, stopping just inches away from kissing Bill again. “No, I don’t - how would we normally do it? Just - do we do it like this? Come to bed, get ready like we’re going to sleep?”

“Sometimes,” Bill tells him, and he nudges close to press his lips to Ted’s cheek, and the corner of his mouth. “But sometimes like - like tonight, when the girls are out, we start in the kitchen. Winding down for the night, we’ll make out - I just wanna touch you all the time, dude, in case you couldn’t tell.” Bill grabs Ted by the waist and pulls him closer, palms sliding over his bare skin. “And sometimes we get kind of worked up there, and we have to kind of - make it to the bedroom. Sometimes it takes a while.”

Bill grins at him, looking up through his eyelashes, and Ted has to lean in and press their mouths together, kissing him desperately.

“What - what else do we do?” Ted pants out as he pulls back, pulling Bill closer, pushing his hands roughly up under his shirt to finally touch his skin. “I don’t - back in the apartment, dude, there was so much stuff I used to think about, ways I wanted to touch you, or ways I wanted you to touch me-”

Chuckling, Bill kisses Ted again, and bites at his lip before he pulls back, grabbing at Ted’s hips again. “I promise, dude, we’ve done like, all of it.”

Ted shivers and groans, grabbing at the fabric of Bill’s shirt. “I wanna - there’s so much I want, Bill, I don’t even know where to start.”

“Just - lay back, dude, let me take care of you,” Bill tells him, pressing his hands against Ted’s shoulders and urging him to lean back against the pillows. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do, dude,” Ted tells him, settling into the bed and adjusting until he’s comfortable. He spread his legs easily, making room for Bill to settle in between them - and he watches as Bill finally takes off his shirt, pulling it over his head.

As much as Bill taking care of him implies that Ted’s not supposed to do most of the work - Ted can’t help but reach out then to press his hands back against Bill’s skin, squeezing at his hips, gliding his palms up to Bill’s waist, and then over his back.

“God, dude, you’re so hot,” Ted tells him, his mouth hanging open a little as he finally gets to look at Bill’s chest, and stare openly at his hips.

“Ted,” Bill says, and Ted watches as a flush spreads down over his neck and chest. He looks further up and finds Bill glancing down, his mouth pushed to one side. It’s obvious he’s a little embarrassed.

Ted blinks, and frowns. “Dude, wh - do I not tell you that all the time? You look so good. I kept just like, staring, wishing you’d take your shirt off in the bedroom every night.”

“I mean you say it like - well you said it before, but it’s like - the last thing you remember is me being 21, dude so-”

“And you’re still hot,” Ted insists, leaning up, and kissing Bill on the mouth. Then, though, as if to prove his point, he moves down, kissing over Bill’s neck, and his shoulders, pressing his mouth to each freckle he finds. “Like stupid hot, I just - your arms, dude,” Ted tells him, moving his hands up to Bill’s biceps, and squeezing at them, groaning at the feeling of the muscle under his hands. “Watching you play Eruption was like - I totally got a chubby just watching you.”

Bill laughs, but it turns into a moan as Ted finally leans over and bites, gently, at the muscle of his arm. “I learned how to play it just to impress you, dude. I never - I never even told you that, but I’m pretty sure it worked the first time, too.”

Ted glances up from Bill’s collarbone and shakes his hair out of his face. “Of course it did, dude, it was you.” Driven by instinct, more than anything, he keeps kissing over Bill’s chest, and finally licks over one of Bill’s nipples, wanting to see what happens. When Bill twitches a little, and hums, Ted closes his mouth around the same nipple and sucks, still looking up to try and gauge Bill’s expression.

It turns out that Bill really likes it - his face turns an even deeper pink as his mouth falls open and he moans out loud, one of his hands pushing up into Ted’s hair.

Spurred on by Bill’s reaction, Ted bites at his chest, and then presses wet sucking kisses in a line over to his other nipple, making sure to give equal attention to both sides.

By the time Ted feels satisfied, Bill is whining quietly and pressing up towards Ted’s mouth, breathing heavily.

“I thought-” Bill finally pants out in between quiet sounds. “Thought I was supposed to be the one - _hn_ \- taking care of you, dude.”

Ted laughs, and pulls his head back, looking over the mess he’s made of Bill’s chest - the little mouth shaped red marks all over it, and the red patches left by his beard, too. “Just wanted to show you I still think you’re hot. Guess I got a little carried away. But-” Ted presses a hand against Bill’s waist, then slides it up, rubbing one callused thumb over Bill’s still-sensitive nipple just to hear him moan again. “I don’t hear you complaining.”

“Shut up, Ted,” Bill grumbles, and Ted’s grin widens as Bill finally grabs the back of his neck and pulls him back into a proper kiss.

He bites at Ted’s mouth, and shoves him back against the pillows again - and when he settles in Ted’s lap, knees on either side of Ted’s hips, Ted can feel Bill’s hard cock pressed against his stomach, and he moans into the kiss.

“Bill-” he pants out as their mouths part again, but Bill just leans in and quiets him with another wet, lingering press of their mouths.

Ted grabs at Bill’s hips, then, and starts to push at Bill’s pajama pants, trying to shove them down, and off.

Bill finally pulls back properly, though, and sets his hands on top of Ted’s. “Not - not yet, dude. I wanna do something first. I wanna - like, get you ready, but if you don’t wanna go all the way already we don’t have to, not when you don’t remember.”

Wide-eyed, Ted looks up at Bill’s flushed face and his dark, hooded eyes, and he realizes what Bill means. He knew a little, even back in 1991 - had peeked in gay porn magazines, tried looking things up at the library and then felt the urge to slam the book shut and run out before he got caught. Sometimes he’d tried fingering himself, when Bill was busy at work and he knew he wouldn’t get caught - and he’d spent the whole time thinking about Bill’s hands.

“Like - go all the way like - you inside me?” Ted asks, sliding his hands up Bill’s back.

“Yeah. Cause we do it a lot - and you like it, and - I know how to make it really good for you. But if you wanna stop before we get there, just say, okay? But I can like - I can get you ready and then if you want, I’ll make love to you.”

Ted shivers in response, and his eyes flutter shut. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s - please, Bill.”

Bill nods, and presses his damp mouth to Ted’s, and then pulls back, reaching over to the end table and fumbling around in the drawer. “Gonna need this soon,” Bill says, setting the lube on the bed beside Ted.

Ted watches as he scoots backward, laying on his stomach in between Ted’s legs - and he wraps his hands around Ted’s ankles, urging him to pull his legs up close. He kisses Ted’s calf, and the point of his ankle bone, and then leans back up, laughing a little.

“Here, let’s - get these off-” Bill says, and he tugs at Ted’s underwear. Their hands overlap as they both pull them down Ted’s hips, and Ted almost knocks his knee into Bill’s head as he tries to finish getting them off, and they both break into giggles.

It should probably be strange, how comfortable he still is being naked in front of Bill - but Bill’s eyes are so warm as he looks over Ted’s body, eyes lingering briefly on his hips and his already half-hard cock, now that they’re exposed. It’s all so familiar, for something Ted doesn’t remember doing at all, and Bill makes him feel so safe.

Ted pulls his legs up again, heels resting up by his hips, and Bill kisses his knee before he settles back on his stomach between Ted’s legs.

Feeling Bill’s gaze - there, in the vulnerable space between his legs, is a little more uncomfortable, but he just flushes and looks up at the ceiling, clutching at the sheets so he doesn’t give in to the urge to press his hands over his face.

“Bill,” he says quietly, desperate to at least have Bill touch him.

“Sorry,” Bill tells him, finally placing his hands on Ted’s hips, angling them upwards a little. “Just looking, dude. It’s been almost a month, remember?” He kisses at the inside of Ted’s thigh, and sets his teeth there for a moment, just enough to make Ted startle, his hips nudging upwards.

Bill laughs, and wraps one hand around Ted’s ankle, pushing his leg up and out further - and then he spreads Ted open, and Ted feels more exposed than ever.

His cock twitches against his stomach, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut, tight.

“I’m gonna just - this is gonna seem weird at first, but I promise you like it,” Bill says quietly - and Ted makes a quiet little sound - but it edges out into a high-pitched sound of surprise as he feels Bill kissing right over his hole.

“Bill,” he says, loud this time, and Bill just hums against him, tongue moving in a slow circle around him, clearly waiting for him to relax, and Ted legs fall open further as he tilts his hips up towards Bill’s mouth.

Ted has to let go of the sheets after all, and his hands come up to press at his face. He can feel how flushed he is, under his hands, and he muffles his own noises as Bill points his tongue and actually presses inside.

“You gotta relax, dude,” Bill tells him, and - Ted can feel where his tongue is still pressed to his skin, but he can hear it, too, when he talks, hear the way Bill’s diction is all messed up because he won’t pull his tongue back into his mouth.

Whining, Ted actively flexes and then relaxes his hips, his legs falling open enough that he can feel the stretch. “Is that - is that better?” He punctuates his sentence with a moan, though, as Bill’s mouth presses against his hole again, and he sucks gently before licking inside.

Ted expects Bill to just lick over him a few more times, to loosen him up and then move on, but instead he lingers, seeming to get lost in it as he thrusts his tongue inside of Ted presses sucking kisses around his hole.

“Bill, please, can you - _ahn_ \- I want your fingers, dude, please,” Ted tells him, his toes still curling against the sheets as Bill thrusts in with his tongue again, and Ted’s hole opens easily around him. Each time Bill presses inside, there’s another tug of arousal in Ted’s stomach - almost to the point that Ted feels like he could come just like this, if Bill would tug on his cock, too - and maybe he has before. Maybe Bill gets him off like this regularly.

When Bill pulls back, breathing heavily, the cool air of the bedroom hits the spit still lingering on Ted’s rim, and the way he can feel the air on his exposed hole makes him feel - loose and open and wet, and filthy. He whimpers, and presses his hands harder against his face before he finally manages to pull them away, squirming against the sheets.

“God, Ted,” Bill says - and Ted finally makes himself focus, his eyes settling on Bill, who’s sitting up now between his legs, wrapping a hand around his own cock in his pajama bottoms.

“You’re - you’re really good at that, dude,” Ted tells him shakily, still just laying there with his legs open, panting as he recovers - and well aware that he hasn’t even come yet, and Bill hasn’t even put his fingers inside of him yet, let alone his cock.

“Well, like I said, dude, you really like it,” Bill tells him, grinning a little. His mouth is red and raw - and Ted knows what from, and still wants to kiss him, at least a little.

“Dude, do you-”

But Bill grins at him, and reaches over to the end table again and pulls out a little travel sized bottle of mouthwash, swishing some around in his mouth before he leans up and over Ted to spit it into the trashcan by the bed. Then, when he comes back, he’s got his hands on either side of Ted’s shoulder’s, hovering over him, grinning. “Like I said,” Bill starts again, but this time Ted grabs him by the back of the neck and pulls him into a kiss, biting at his mouth and pressing his tongue inside, gladly tasting the mouthwash.

“Dude, you’re so smart,” Ted pants against his mouth, kissing at his cheek, and then his jaw.

“I just never wanna get up and go all the way to the bathroom after,” Bill tells him, laughing.

They giggle into each other’s mouths for a moment, and then Bill settles back between Ted’s legs again, properly, pulling one of Ted’s legs up around his hip.

“Here - you’re probably a little tight, since it’s been a while,” Bill tells him. He pours some of the lube into his hand, and then rubs his fingers together, obviously trying to warm it up.

It’s a small gesture, but it makes Ted smile at him, fond. Bill’s using his right hand, of course - but he looks down at the other hand, the one pressed to his thigh, and he can see Bill’s wedding ring glinting in the light. Ted feels so lucky to be married to Bill, and to be the receiving end of so much love, and all these small acts of affection.

Then Bill’s finger, slick with lube, circles around his still-damp hole, and presses gently inside.

Ted arches his back a little, exhaling in a rush at the feeling, and at the thought that it’s Bill’s finger _inside of him_. There’s no real discomfort, maybe because it’s just the one finger, and maybe because even if it’s been a few weeks, Ted’s body is still fairly used to the sensation.

“Good, dude?” Bill asks, once his finger is pressed all the way in.

Nodding, Ted arches his back again and turns to press his cheek against the pillow. “Yeah. You can - move and stuff, go ahead.”

So Bill pulls his finger out and then presses back in, moving in and out in a slow, steady rhythm. Ted can hear the slick sound of it, and he moves his leg, hooking his heel around Bill’s leg and keeping him close.

Just the thrusting motion of that one finger is enough that Ted feels reduced to his senses - to the way his cock twitches against his stomach, the way Bill’s callused fingers and warm palm are still pressed to Ted’s thigh to help hold him open, the way the sheets feel against his skin. He feels sensitive and shivery, and he nudges his hips up towards Bill’s hand.

“Gimme - gimme another one, dude.”

“Okay,” Bill tells him, and he pulls out, gently, and Ted whines. “Just gotta get more lube, dude, don’t wanna hurt you.”

He means to say something - a thank you, or just an acknowledgement of how thoughtful Bill clearly is in bed, but it just turns into another wordless whimper as Bill presses back in with two fingers. They’re cooler this time, because Bill obviously didn’t pause to warm them up because Ted’s already so desperate - and Ted is grateful even as he shivers.

Once Bill’s fingers are inside of him, and there’s still little resistance, he starts pressing in a little harder, thrusting with purpose.

Ted forces himself to open his eyes, wanting to see Bill - he trails his eyes over Bill’s chest again, and the veins and tendons in his arm, the way they tense and move with each press of his fingers. Finally, he manages to look up at Bill’s face, and he finds that Bill’s eyes are already locked on him, his mouth pink and open, eyes hooded, brow furrowed as he works to open Ted up.

He flushes, too, as Bill sees him looking back, and then he moans as Bill curves his fingers and presses against a spot inside of him that makes pleasure rush through him, tugging in the pit of his stomach, rushing through his body and making his toes curl against the sheets again.

“Yeah, that’s it, babe. Wanna hear you,” Bill tells him, keeping his fingers hooked up, rubbing now over that same spot inside of Ted.

As his mouth falls open further, his jaw working, Ted can’t help but moan, high and long and _loud_ , urged on by Bill’s words and by the pet name. “Bill - Bill, I-”

“You could come just from this. I know you could, cause I’ve seen you do it,” He eases off, just for a moment, and then presses his fingers back in again, opening them up before curling them up again just to hear Ted whine. “You can actually - you can get off like this even if I don’t touch your cock. Just from this, if I do it right. You never found the right spot on your own, cause - the first time I did it, you told me that. It’s good, right?”

Ted’s panting out quiet little sounds with each press of Bill’s fingers, now, and he tries to stop, breathing deeply just to try and answer. “It’s - _fuck_ , Bill - dude, it’s so good, why is it so good-” His voice edges out into a desperate whine, and he has to close his eyes again, head shifting against the pillow until Bill spreads his fingers again, opening Ted up, leaving him to shake and shiver in the wake of all the stimulation.

“You’re sensitive, babe,” Bill tells him, moving his hand over Ted’s thigh, up to his hip, thumb petting over the point of his hip bone. “Really sensitive. I just like to watch you like this - listen to you, when you can be loud. Sometimes - sometimes I used to just get off listening to you, touching you and stuff, before you even touched me. You’re so hot.”

Reaching out blindly, Ted fumbles until he hits Bill’s hip, grabbing there and squeezing, thumb sliding under the edge of his pajama pants. “Don’t - I don’t wanna - I want you inside me, want you to come inside me, Bill, please.”

“Yeah, you always like that,” Bill tells him, moving his hand back to Ted’s thigh, pressing it back and holding him open again, tilting his hips up. “You’re sure, though?” he asks, looking up properly, right as he gently slides his fingers out again, keeping his eyes locked on Ted’s face.

Ted’s panting, barely able to look at Bill, but he does, and he nods. “Yeah. I’m sure. Want you to make love to me. Wanna feel it.”

Bill nods, and presses his lubed up hand against the front of his pajama bottoms again, just briefly.

Then, finally, he shimmies out of his pants, and Ted gets to see his cock.

It’s not like he never caught glimpses of it in the apartment - enough to know that Bill was cut, and pink, and nicely shaped - but he was never allowed to stare. Now, his eyes stick there, moving over the veins, and wet shine at the head, and then down to the wiry golden curls at the base.

Ted licks his lips, and lets his mouth fall open a little, and Bill catches him, pressing his thumb against Ted’s bottom lip.

“If I let you suck me off, dude, I’ll come in like a second. I’m still probably not gonna last long - but there’s plenty of other times for me to come in your mouth.”

Eyes locking on Bill’s face again, Ted flicks his tongue out, licking over the pad of Bill’s thumb, and Bill’s mouth falls open. He leans down and kisses Ted, deep and sloppy, both of their mouths still wet, his tongue pressing inside Ted’s mouth right away.

He kisses back, sliding his tongue against Bill’s, and they both groan into the kiss. Ted gets lost in it easily, almost able to forget how open and loose he still feels, the way he can still feel how wet the lube still is between his legs.

Then, Bill presses back against him with three slick fingers, and Ted pulls back to gasp.

Though it still doesn’t hurt, the stretch is a little uncomfortable now, and he has to rub his back against the sheets, trying to ground himself a little as he shakes under Bill’s touch.

Bill’s hand rubs over his thigh again, thumb pressed to his skin, and he adjusts his angle so he can press in deeper, getting all three of his fingers pressed deep inside before waiting, allowing Ted to adjust to the feeling.

“I want - keep going, please,” Ted tells him - so Bill does.

He kisses at Ted’s stomach, and his thigh, and his hip, and presses his fingers in slow and deep, making sure to stretch Ted as much as possible. There’s enough lube inside of Ted that he can hear it as much as he can feel it, even louder than the slick sound of Bill’s single finger, and he whines and pants and presses his feet against the bed, trying not to get so worked up that he comes as soon as Bill gets inside of him.

Slowly, Ted relaxes again, even though he still shivers at a particularly rough thrust, or when Bill curves his fingers up deliberately just to make Ted twitch - or when he realizes he can feel the excess lube dribbling out around Bill’s fingers, sliding over his skin, down towards the mattress.

When Bill stops, this time he keeps his fingers tucked inside of Ted. “You think you’re ready? You feel ready.”

Mostly beyond words, Ted squirms against the mattress and rubs his foot against Bill’s calf, nodding so hard he can feel his hair get all messed up against the pillows. “Please,” he pants out, nudging his hips up towards Bill’s hand.

“Okay. Gimme a minute.” He slides his fingers out, and Ted makes a little noise of protest. Bill pets his thumb over the crease of Ted’s hip. “I know. Sorry.”

Forcing his eyes open, Ted looks down - first at his own flushed chest, and then down where his cock is red and ruddy and drooling precum on his stomach. Then he looks past that, to watch Bill tugging at his own cock. He watches the head peek out of Bill’s fist, then disappear between his fingers, and his own cock twitches in sympathy against his stomach again. He flicks his eyes up to Bill’s expression, and sees that his mouth is hanging open, brow furrowed, but now his eyes are locked on Ted all loose and open between his legs. Ted can’t help but shiver and open his legs even further, tilting his hips up so Bill can see better - and then he watches as Bill grabs tight around the base of his cock and shivers.

“God, Ted - almost a month is way too long, dude,” Bill tells him, and he finally settles over Ted, getting into position to press inside him.

He can feel when the head of Bill’s cock slips over him, head catching on his rim, and he shivers, and twitches, and closes his eyes again.

“Relax. C’mon, babe,” Bill tells him. Ted takes a deep breath, and exhales slowly, and reaches up to hold onto Bill’s shoulders as he intentionally relaxes his hips again.

That’s when Bill takes himself in hand and finally pushes inside.

In spite of his attempts to relax, Ted clenches down just a little, just to feel Bill inside him, really feel him, and it makes Bill twitch, pushing forward a little bit faster than he maybe should.

Ted just gasps, though, a little overwhelmed noise, and then pants out a little moan with each breath as Bill pushes steadily inwards, opening him up.

He feels - full. Shivery and sensitive again, and hyper aware of how warm Bill is inside him, and how easy it is to feel his cock twitch now that it’s pressed inside, reacting to each time Ted squirms or moans or squeezes around him.

“Bill,” he finally chokes out, his hands grabbing so tightly at Bill’s shoulders he feels like he might leave bruises.

“Yeah - it’s - it’s good, right?”

Nodding, Ted tilts his head back and moves his hips again - this time on purpose, to hear the choked off moan Bill lets out, and to feel the way his hips twitch forward.

“You want me to move?”

Ted nods again, humming, rubbing his palms over Bill’s skin, enjoying the friction and the sensation, the way it all sort of swirls together in a haze when he’s so lost in the feeling of Bill inside of him.

At first, Bill pulls out slowly and presses back in at the same pace. When Ted just gasps, though, and whines, he starts to steadily increase his pace, working up to a speed where he’s thrusting hard enough that Ted is rocking with it, his cock slapping gently against his stomach.

The in and out motion and Bill pressed so close is already so much to process, Ted feels overwhelmed anyways - and then Bill finally shifts, angling his hips, and brushes over that same spot he’d hit with his fingers earlier.

Ted’s mouth falls open and he cries out, back arching as he loses the rhythm - and then Bill’s just driving into him, pressing against that spot intentionally, each thrust in just the right place. Any time he does miss just slightly only makes Ted that much more sensitive the next time he hits it again. Ted gives in to the feeling, his legs open, his hands falling back to the bed, fists clenched in the sheets, totally lost to the feeling of Bill fucking into him, obviously totally focused on Ted’s pleasure.

“Bill,” he moans out, but then he just lets his mouth fall open again, unable to get anything else out, barely even able to think, let alone form words.

“You’re close, right? It’s okay. Go ahead. Wanna watch you come, Ted. Come on, come for me.”

He can tell that Bill is right - can feel the sort of prickling all over his skin, the sensitivity, the pull of it in his hips - but as he clenches with it, and moans, Bill is actually the one to come first, thrusting in deep and pushing his hips tight against Ted’s ass as he shakes through it.

Ted can feel Bill’s cum, warm inside him, and he groans, reaching down to wrap a hand around his cock, unable to resist. As he tugs at himself, Bill reaches up and wraps his hand around Ted’s, both of them squeezing and twisting just right, and then Ted is coming, too, cum spurting over his fingers and Bill’s and his stomach as he squeezes around Bill, still inside of him.

Bill groans, and falls against Ted’s chest, face pressed to his skin. Ted wraps his arms around Bill’s shoulders and holds him close, pushing the fingers of his clean hand into Bill’s curls as he breathes heavily, coming down.

Just as Ted starts to feel a little sticky, and his breathing starts to even out, Bill shifts up enough to let his softened cock slide out of Ted’s body, and they both shiver a little at the feeling.

“So that was-” Bill starts, but Ted cuts him off, leaning up to kiss him, hand still pressed to the back of his head.

“Perfect, dude,” Ted tells him, nuzzling against his temple. “It was perfect.”

“I’m glad,” Bill tells him, and he settles in beside Ted, kissing at his shoulder. “We gotta - clean up in a minute.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ted tells him, closing his eyes anyways.

“Like, really,” Bill tells him, and he presses his messy hand against Ted’s stomach, sliding it up to his chest, smearing Ted’s own cum over his belly.

“Bill, dude,” Ted whines, wrinkling his nose. But he - shivers a little, too, kind of enjoying the feeling of Bill smearing cum all over him.

“Too bad I know you’re into it,” Bill tells him, laughing a little. He sits up, and groans, then leans over and kisses at Ted’s stomach, licking over the mess before he pulls away again. “Come on, dude, let’s get in the shower. Gotta get you cleaned up.”

The promise of getting in the shower with Bill finally gets him up, and he stumbles against Bill on the short walk to the bathroom, weak in the knees and giggling, blushing as he feels Bill’s cum starting to slide out over his skin.

In the shower, Bill rubs his soapy hands over Ted’s skin and gently helps him clean the cum off his stomach. Ted helps Bill wash off, too - scrubs through his hair and helps him make certain they’ve gotten all the lube off his skin. They trade soft kisses under the spray of the water, Ted ducking under the water and then shaking his wet hair out of his face to make Bill laugh.

There’s something so tender and intimate about the two of them sharing the small space, totally naked and spent. Their soft cocks nudge against each other when Ted ducks in close to kiss Bill, and Ted giggles a little, fascinated with the feeling. He’s also just overwhelmed with finally having so much of Bill’s bare skin open to touch - just to rub his palms over it, and catalog all his new freckles and moles.

Warm, damp and drowsy, Ted lets Bill dry him off, and tries to help him do the same, and then they both pull just their sleep pants back on and stumble into bed, clumsy and unwilling to let go of each other.

That night, like they do so often lately, Ted’s dreams feel almost clear - just a little bit more in focus, a little bit more like he might be able to figure out the order and the placement of all the images that flash in front of his subconscious mind. They all fade by the morning, though - and Ted wakes, as sleepy and frustrated as ever - although this time it’s much more easily forgotten as Bill kisses him good morning.

They trade a few kisses, morning breath and all, in the sunlight streaming in through the window. Bill’s curls are all golden and backlit, as he presses his smile against Ted’s lips, and Ted is so happy and in love he feels like he can’t hold it all inside his chest.

“I love you,” he tells Bill - and somehow, even as Bill gives him that soft, fond look all close up, his eyes all warm and hooded, Ted feels like it isn’t enough.

Which actually gives him an idea. He wraps his hands around Bill’s arms and pulls back to smile at him. “Dude, I think I know how to finish the last song for the demo. I got an idea.”

Bill grins, and lets Ted tug him out of bed, so both of them, still in their pajamas, stumble eagerly to the garage to put pen to paper and fingers to frets. Ted uses the stuff he wrote the day before, but now with Bill’s help he’s able to weave it into something different and better - more of a duet than a solo piece for either of them.

As soon as they write the guitar solo together, playing off of each other, Ted knows he’s onto something.

He plays more of the harmony, and Bill takes more of the lead, just because Ted’s still a little uncertain, but they sound so much better together you’d never know.

He’s a little worried it only sounds so good to him because he doesn’t remember - but when they finish laying down the solo track and play it back, Bill’s expression makes it obvious that it sounds as good as Ted thinks it does.

They grin at each other, and air guitar - and they’re still in the garage in their pajamas when the girls come home and find them there.

“Hey dads,” Thea says as she and Billie wander and look at them both, sitting on the couch with their guitars in their laps. “Uh - how goes it?”

“Thea, you’ve gotta listen to this,” Bill tells her, jumping up and grabbing her a pair of headphones. Ted grins at Bille and shrugs, gesturing to her that she should feel free to take the other pair if she wants.

Bill plays the rough cut of the song for them both - and Ted watches as their faces light up.

“Dads! This is awesome!” Thea tells them, pulling her headphones off.

“Most excellent,” Billie agrees, grinning and smiling. “I think you finally did it.”

“Really?” Bill asks, blinking, his eyes wide. “You think this is better?”

Billie nods. “Most definitely.”

“Better?” Ted asks, glancing between Bill and Billie.

“Better than your one hit single - which to be fair, was a stellar song.”

“Oh,” Ted says, smiling over at Bill.

Bill grins back at him, and together, they air guitar again. The girls laugh, and join in - and then they’re having a family air guitar, which is maybe one of the most excellent things Ted’s gotten to experience since he got home.

“You guys should probably break for lunch, though,” Thea tells them. “The song’ll be here when you get back.”

“Excellent point, my excellent daughter,” Bill tells her, and he places his hands on her shoulders just to shake her a little as he walks with her into the house.

Billie reaches a hand down to help him stand up, and Ted takes it gratefully. He stretches out his back, then nudges her with his elbow. “So how was the camping trip? Or whatever you guys got up to.”

She grins at him. “It was good. Thea brought her girlfriend, so I brought someone too. We all went stargazing for a little bit, it was a cool time.”

“Sounds cool,” Ted tells her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Is the someone someone I’ve met and don’t remember, or someone new?”

“Newish. You haven’t met them. Telling you about them though involves - explaining some stuff to you I haven’t gotten to yet since you woke up, but I guess we gotta do sometime if you don’t remember. Like - uh. Gender stuff?”

Ted blinks a little, and nods. “Okay. I - yeah, admittedly, 1991 was - not the best time for any of that stuff. So you probably will have to explain it again if I don’t remember. I’m sorry, B.”

“That’s okay, Dader,” she tells him, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You were cool last time, you’ll be cool again. I trust you.”

Smiling, Ted hugs her a little tighter. “Okay, then. Good to know.”

They make their way inside, too, and find Bill and Thea making lunch together.

Once they’ve all eaten, they head back to the garage together, and spend the late afternoon into the evening really polishing the song, Billie and Thea helping to add beats and flesh out the full sound.

By the time they head back in for dinner, the whole three-song demo is done.

Bill can’t take it into the label offices until Monday - and although Ted offers to go with him, he still wants to go alone. Mostly, he just thinks all the label talk will stress Ted out - but Ted is most anxious to see how everything goes.

In the end, he and Bill compromise with Ted riding to the office with him and waiting in the van. Billie and Thea, though, insist on coming, too, then, to keep Ted company. 

As a result, Monday morning finds the whole family piling in the van, half of them still bleary-eyed and practically asleep. Thea actually does fall asleep in the backseat, and Ted looks over to catch Bill looking at her fondly in the rear view mirror.

When Bill turns off the van and turns to face them, Ted can’t help but lean in and pull him in for a kiss - just a short one.

“It’s gonna go great, dude,” Ted tells him, nodding reassuringly.

“Yeah, what dad said,” Billie agrees, smiling slightly. She nods at them both, and reaches up to wiggle her fingers against Bill’s - and Thea mumbles something from the back, and then Bill laughs as he hops out of the car to go inside.

Ted watches him go, watching all the way until he’s inside the door, and tries not to let himself get overwhelmed with worry.

Unfortunately, time seems to pass unbearably slowly while he’s waiting. Ted is very quickly most grateful B and T agreed to come, too. He and Billie play twenty questions and I Spy until Thea wakes up, and then they all put on some music to pass the time. The more nervous he gets, the more obvious Billie and Thea become with their attempts to distract him - but the more he just appreciates how hard they’re trying, genuinely, to make him feel better.

As the ten minutes Ted hoped Bill would be inside slowly turns into half an hour, and then an hour, he finally turns to face the backseat properly and sighs. “Thank you, both of you, for coming. I know it’s kind of a most tedious way to pass a Monday morning, but - I really appreciate the distraction.”

“We figured you would, Dader,” Thea tells him with a little smile. Then her face lights up properly, and she leans up into the front seat. “Look - look, here he comes!”

At first, Bill’s just walking fast back to the car, and all three of them sit there, frozen, waiting with bated breath to see if there’s any sign of the actual news.

Then, once it’s obvious Bill can see them watching, he grins, and throws out his arms, and does a most extravagant air guitar.

All of them whooping and shouting wordlessly, Ted jumps out of the van, and Billie and Thea follow him, and then they’re all piling onto Bill for one big family hug.

“They really said yes? They’re gonna go for it?” Ted asks him, pressing his face against the top of Bill’s head.

“Yes way, dude!” Bill tells him, excited. “We’ve got our contract for the next album - and they said if it sells as well as they think they’re gonna do a whole push, like a reunion tour and everything - they totally thought it was great, Ted. We did it!”

Ted laughs, and wraps his arms tighter around Bill, and feels Billie and Thea’s heads push in closer against his shoulders.

“We knew you could do it, dads,” Billie tells them both.

“Well we couldn’t have done it without you two, either,” Bill answers her, tugging her down to kiss her forehead, then doing the same for Thea. “Those demos still would have been a mess without your help. You’re both going to be most excellent producers someday, if that’s still what you want to do. We’re just lucky to be the first band to work with you.”

Thea ducks her head, and Billie grins, and they both say, “Thanks, Dad.”

Once they’ve all settled down a little, they pile back into the van and go for a celebratory lunch at some place that’s apparently a family favorite. The missing memories can’t even make Ted that sad, though, when everyone else is still in such a good mood. Bill keeps an arm around his waist, and he and Billie and Thea spend all of their meal telling family stories so Ted gets to hear them all over again.

He’s fully settled into the idea that he might not get all his memories back - not in the normal way. He hates that he’d be missing firsthand experience of so many important things - of the wedding, and Billie and Thea’s childhood, and his and Bill’s relationship, but Bill and Billie and Thea are getting so good at explaining things to him and painting the pictures of it all for him that most of the time, he can’t bring himself to mind. He’s happy, and Bill’s happy, and they get to do what they love, and they have two wonderful daughters - there’s not much else he could ask for.

And then, just as he feels like he’s accepted it, just a week after they get their album deal renewed, Ted falls asleep and finds that his dreams are suddenly vivid and clear. 

He sees Bill holding Thea, and he sees Billie, small and curled up in his arms. He sees the girls all covered in paint while they play around on the driveway mural. He sees his father, going off on some rant about how he and Bill getting married is the last straw - and Bill punching him square in the face. He sees the flower petals in the air, and the one one of them gets stuck in Bill’s curls, and when he leans in to pull it away, he kisses Bill, tasting icing and champagne. He sees Liz and Jo offering to be their surrogates, kissing them both on the cheek and wishing them the best, happy to see them happy.

He sees their old, dirty apartment, and the first time he ever kissed Bill, nervous as he fidgeted on their sagging green sofa, until Bill leaned in and kissed him back. He sees all of it.

There’s so much of it, one thing after another - but somehow it suddenly all slots back into place in his head, so the pictures all make sense, and he remembers everything.

When he wakes up, gasping, the sun isn’t even all the way up. It’s still a little bit dark outside - and Bill is still asleep, his face smashed into the pillows and his curls all a mess. For a single fond moment, reflecting on how hard Bill’s been working and how much he’s done to take care of Ted over the past month, Ted almost wants to let him sleep.

He knows, though, that Bill would want to be awake. He grins, and grabs Bill’s shoulder, shaking him a little. “Bill, dude, hey wake up.”

Bill lifts his head a little, and blinks, trying to rub the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hand. “What is it, dude? Are you - are you like, okay, is something hurting?”

“I remember, dude,” Ted tells him, and he’s grinning so hard it hurts a little, his eyes starting to water as he looks at Bill - really looks at him, and sees again the man he’s known all his life, his best friend since he was five years old, the boy he fell in love with in high school - his husband.

“You-” Bill sits up, suddenly. “Really? You do?”

“I remember everything, I-” Ted laughs a little, and wraps his arms around Bill’s shoulders, and presses their foreheads together. “I remember the wedding, and the time you punched my dad in the face, and Billie and Thea, I remember everything.”

“No way,” Bill says softly, his hands resting gently on Ted’s back. “Tell me - tell me something specific, something we haven’t talked about since you woke up.”

Ted giggles a little, and squeezes his eyes shut. “I remember that time right after we first got the house, dude, when the pipes busted and you thought you could fix it - and you got totally soaked, and I had to stick you and Billie and Thea all in the bath, because we couldn’t run the showers and we barely had any hot water, and you were so grody. And then we still had to call a plumber the next day.” Ted laughs again, and tears slide down his face.

“Ted,” Bill says softly, all overwhelmed. “You do remember.”

“Yeah, dude, I told you,” he says - and then Bill’s pulling him close, hugging him tighter, kissing over his cheeks, and his eyelids, and then his mouth.

“I thought - I thought maybe you weren’t gonna, dude, I thought maybe it was just gone-”

“I thought so, too, Bill, but - it’s not. It’s all in there, dude. I’m here.”

Bill hugs him tighter, and presses his face against Ted’s neck, and sighs. “Yeah. You are.”

“I love you, dude,” Ted tells him, kissing over the mole at his temple. “And I’m-” He feels, as his excitement starts to ebb away a little, the weight of all his memories falling over him - not just the good, but the bad, too. How much he struggled with his father, how discouraged he’d started to feel about their music before he’d fallen and forgotten all that. He rubs a hand over Bill’s back. He’ll take all of that back if he gets to keep the good ones, too - but very abruptly, he sort of feels his age in a way he hasn’t in a month. “I’m glad I got it all back,” he says, firmly.

“Me, too, Ted. I love you, too.” Bill leans up and kisses him, and then meets Ted’s eyes, obviously noticing his shift in mood. “Are you okay, though? It’s okay if you’re not.”

Ted pauses for a moment, eyes searching over Bill’s face, his sleepy eyes and the slight downturn of his mouth. “I think I am, dude. I just-” He pauses, and rubs his hands down over Bill’s arms. “Maybe it’s not - such a bad thing that I fell, dude. I think maybe it kind of - helped. I don’t know if we’d have the album without it and - I think things are gonna be better now. You know?”

Bill nods, and presses one hand to his face, rubbing a thumb over his cheek. “I think I know what you mean, dude.” He leans forward, and knocks his forehead against Ted’s. “I’m just - glad you’re okay.”

“Me, too,” Ted says genuinely - and he shifts to curl around Bill, head pressed against his shoulder. “But I wanna - I know we should tell B and T. But can we just stay in here for a little bit?”

“Of course, dude,” Bill tells him, petting over the back of his head. “We could probably stay in here all day if you really wanted.”

“Just for a little bit,” Ted says, and then he lays back down, tugging Bill with him by his sleep shirt. “Just - wanna enjoy having it all back, you know? Lay here and talk to you about stuff.”

Bill nods, and lays down face to face with Ted. Then he reaches out to take Ted’s hand, intertwining their fingers. “Whatever you want,” he says softly.

Ted has to lean in and kiss him for that - just a soft press of lips. “I love you, dude. I know this whole thing was hard for you, I just - I’m so lucky I get to be married to you.”

Snorting, Bill shakes his head. “No way, dude. If anybody’s lucky, I am. And I know I - screwed up a lot. I’m just glad we’re okay.”

“Course we’re okay, Bill. We’re always okay.” Ted kisses him again, sweet and lingering. “Love you.”

“Love you, too, Ted,” Bill says back this time - and he wraps one leg around Ted’s, and his arm around Ted’s waist, and cuddles close.

They settle in together, and Ted closes his eyes, feeling his heart rate settle down again. He knows that Billie and Thea will be happy to hear he remembers, and they can all settle in at the kitchen table and have a late breakfast or lunch together, and go back over all the memories. They’ll all still go in the garage later, and keep working on the new album, which really is shaping up to be something truly excellent.

For now, though, he’s happy just to have Bill back, and in his arms - to really have Bill back, too, not just in person, but all his memories, too. A whole half of his life - and a life that he feels really is only going to get better from here.

“Still good?” Bill asks, pushing Ted’s hair back off his face, thumb brushing over his cheek.

Ted opens his eyes again, and blinks his eyes open to find Bill’s face still right in front of his, eyes wide and green in the light of the sunrise. He smiles. “Yeah, dude. I really am.” And this time - Ted really, really means it.

**Author's Note:**

> OH GOD THERE IT IS. UH. i hope you enJOYED IT???? please tell me if so, on twitter @eddykaspbraks, or on discord, or WHEREVER!! just please feel free to talk at me this fic jkamdf took so much work BUT IT WAS SO WORTH IT. thank you all for reading <3


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